


Beautiful lie (to believe in)

by tinnydandelion



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Amnesia, Car Accident, Idiots in Love, I’m not sure this deserves a dubcon tag, M/M, Mistaken Identity, even if you’re very lonely, lying is not cool Cas, nothing more than kissing happens while Dean doesn’t have his memories, you still might say "Cas NO!" a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinnydandelion/pseuds/tinnydandelion
Summary: Written for the following prompt (@iblamemisha on twitter):HospitalAU where Cas is a businessman and Dean has amnesia and thinks Cas is his boyfriend instead of the dude driving the car that hit Baby.Cas wants to set the record straight. He really does. Only somehow, he never manages to say the actual words. The further he gets drawn in, the more he likes Dean, and the less he knows how to stop lying.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 28
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story would be not the same without the great [ mashiarasdream ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mashiarasdream/pseuds/mashiarasdream), who contributed a lot to this story with her advice, discussions and writing on it.  
> Thank you to [ infinitywritten ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitywritten/pseuds/infinitywritten) for betaing and all the comments.

This isn't how Castiel has envisioned his long-overdue holiday. Not at all.

He hates everything about it. The hospital gown is itchy, his back is aching, and the food is not up to his standards. Because he has standards and apparently this hospital has none.

But then, this is complaining on a high level.

Castiel is the lucky one here, after all. He is already up again, he might even be able to go home today or tomorrow if his final tests from this morning come back okay. He can go on with his life as if nothing has happened. Whiplash and a few minor injuries that will heal in a week or two, the doctor has told him.

Castiel sighs deeply as he looks at the man lying in the hospital bed before him. Dean Winchester, 34 years of age. That’s all the information he could get about the man’s personal life. He had to use all the charm he could muster on the nurses to get even that much. It was enough to find his room, at least.

Though now that he’s here, he isn’t sure anymore whether this was a good idea. He thought coming here, maybe apologizing to the man who he hit with his car, would give him some absolution. Because Castiel  _ knows  _ he was a freaking idiot.

But now, he's staring at the man in the hospital bed, freckles on his face standing out in more contrast than they should with how pale he is, and he is beautiful, but his form is lifeless in the remnants of a medically induced coma, and there is no way to release Cas' guilt. So instead, his guilt keeps circling, biting him in ever new places. Because did he really just think about this man as beautiful? How is that a remorseful thought? His carelessness gave the guy a head trauma, and this is Castiel's reaction? To think that the dude he hit is attractive? His brother was right, there is something broken in him.

Suddenly, Castiel can’t take the silence beyond the endless beeping of the heartbeat monitor anymore.

"Look, I’m sorry." It breaks out of him, even though Dean Winchester can’t hear him. Anything to break the train of his own thoughts. "I know that you’re not supposed to be on the phone when you’re driving. And I’m meticulous about it usually. I really am."

In fact, he's always refused to even drive shotgun with anyone who's on the phone. Gabriel would cackle so loudly about this if he could see Castiel now. The one time he doesn't stick to the rules, and this happens. He puts a guy in a coma. Castiel buries his head in his hands.

"I'm so sorry. You have to believe me. I was just so anxious and -" but no, there's no excuse for this. "I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me. This wouldn't have happened if I had kept my calm. But I didn't, and you got hurt, and I'm so sorry. I didn't want this." His voice breaks, the awfulness of that already terrible day that got so much worse through Castiel's actions overwhelming him.

"Oh, sweetheart, don't do this. Don't beat yourself up. It wasn't your fault, every couple fights."

The words are slurred, but Castiel still jumps about five feet in the air when Dean talks. In disbelief, he looks at the man and is met with green eyes and a drugged-out smile. Castiel tries very hard to ignore how his heart seems to suddenly beat faster.

"Oh. I didn't know you were awake," Castiel says because he has no idea how else to answer this.

"Nah,” Dean’s smiles lazily, eyes focusing and unfocusing as he fights against the lingering effects of the medication, “can't be asleep when I could be looking at my gorgeous boyfriend." Unsteady but determined, he reaches for Castiel’s hand.

For a moment, Castiel sits frozen. But his mind doesn't provide him with a protocol to follow, and Dean's face is already changing, the bright smile disappearing, and a crestfallen look setting in around his eyes. And Castiel can't have that. He's put this man here in a coma, so the least he can do is not make the hospital stay worse for him. He gives his hand to Dean, who takes it happily.

_ Sweetheart. Boyfriend.  _ And now this.

"Dean, I'm…", Castiel starts, but Dean squeezes his hand and interrupts him.

"Told you, it's okay."

The dopey smile is back, and it's almost enough for Castiel to give in and just let it be. Because Dean smiling is more than beautiful, Dean smiling is - a revelation in itself.

And there is no harm in this, right? It’s just some confused hand-holding until Dean’s real boyfriend shows up. Who he is confusing Castiel with. Yes, that must be it. Dean has an actual boyfriend. Immediately, there is the urge to draw his hand away. Because this is almost inadvertent cheating. And worse than that, it feels  _ good _ . It's been a while since anyone held Castiel's hand, since anyone looked at him like Dean did. He's closed his eyes now, but the smile is still on his face, and his grip is firm. Castiel wouldn't mind keeping the warmth for a little while.

But he can't. He is a good guy. Or at least he thinks he is. Or at least he tries. He has to tell Dean that he’s confusing him for someone he isn’t.

"I’m not… I’m not your boyfriend, Dean," Castiel finally gets out, even though it’s quiet and almost against his will.

There is no reaction from Dean.

Dean has already fallen asleep again, his hand still in Castiel's.

It takes a moment for Castiel’s brain to process. Not only did he not get to apologize and relieve his guilt, no, he’s not even managed to clear up the misunderstanding about his identity.

_ Sweetheart _ .  _ Boyfriend _ .

Oh, this was definitely not a good idea, Castiel thinks and decides to stay for a few minutes longer. Just to make sure Dean is deeply asleep before he extricates his hand. Or that’s what he tells himself.

"I’m doomed," Castiel sighs as he gets comfortable in his chair, careful not to disturb Dean, and watches him sleep.

***

Castiel looks himself over in the mirror. The suit his intern picked and brought him is a good one, the blue tie highlighting his eyes. Not that Castiel needs to look sharp for leaving the hospital, but wearing a well-cut suit and having his tie done up with a double-Windsor, he feels less like the accident has tilted the Earth beneath him and has left him askew.

He takes a deep breath and checks himself one last time. Yes, that’s much more his usual self staring back at him than the man he’s seen for the past few days. That man - that man did not look like he had his life together at all. In fact, that man, with his wild hair and his red eyes, had scared Castiel a little.

Though Dean had obviously seen something different in him. Dean hadn’t minded the unkempt hair or the way Castiel had broken down. In fact, Dean had been convinced those features belonged to a man he loves.

_ There’s something broken in you, Cassie. It’s like you can turn your emotions off just like that. I’ll never understand you. _

Castiel even hears the snap of Gabriel’s fingers, though it’s been weeks since the words themselves have been said. He turns away from the mirror, doesn’t want to search for the emptiness that his brother sees in him.

He likes better what Dean saw, but then, Dean wasn't in his right mind. By now, Dean's boyfriend will be here, holding his hand, staying by his side every minute until the hospital also greenlights him to go home. It won't take as long as they initially feared. The nurse gave Castiel a pitying look when he asked, but she gave him that much. Probably because she knows he's going to end up paying his own and Dean's bills. Not that he minds. He can afford it, and the accident  _ was _ his fault.

Still, the thought of Dean’s boyfriend being by his side, always staying close, his worry and love clear on his face, opens a chasm in Castiel’s heart. He himself hasn’t had any visitors. None but his intern anyway. And Kevin’s a nice enough kid, but he came here because Castiel pays him to do so. Just like he told Kevin to keep his mouth shut about him being on stay-cation and to instead tell people he was at a conference in Europe. His voicemail says the same thing. So even if Gabriel tried to call, that would be the info he would get, too.

Only, the fire department rescued his cell phone from the totaled car, and Gabriel hasn't called. Not once since that night two weeks ago.

Castiel huffs at himself. Because here he is, thinking about how he has voicemail. So it’s obvious that he would have seen it if Gabriel had called while he was driving. There was no need to pick up his phone and take his eyes off the road. There was no need to let that call distract him to the point of causing an accident.

It’s just that even with everything, Gabriel is the only family he has left. And he has counted him as a friend and ally for most of his life. Castiel’s not used to the radio silence from his usually rather too wordy brother, and it hurts more than he wants to admit.

He takes his cell phone out of his pocket, opens it up, scrolls through the new notifications. They’re from business contacts, all of them. Not a single personal message among them.

He’s called back the number that caused the accident, seeing how he’d hit Dean’s car before he could ever hear who it was. Turns out, it was someone canvassing for the Presidential campaign. And a Republican on top of it.

So stupid. Castiel had been so stupid.

Well, there's one thing he can do at least. He can do the right thing and go back to Dean Winchester's room to put things right. To apologize and tell Dean that he doesn't have to worry about the hospital bills or about getting his car fixed. That Castiel can do that much, pay for everything, and then disappear quietly. Castiel is good at that part, at least.

Of course, he’d had the exact same plan last time he went to Dean’s room. And of course, that had spectacularly failed. He grimaces. He hopes Dean can't remember. He hopes it was the meds. He hopes for any scenario that will make this less awkward and embarrassing than he fears.

Somewhere, buried deep in his heart, he also hopes that he catches Dean on his own. That the fabled boyfriend is so supportive and attentive that he’s getting Dean dessert from the cafeteria because the jello that came with lunch was inedible. It makes the thought feel less selfish somehow, thinking about the boyfriend doing something nice for Dean instead of just wishing for him to be gone.

Castiel has to stop for a moment when he's at Dean's door. His heart is beating hard, and suddenly every bruise and scrape on his body hurts. He should have brought flowers or something. Now he's the empty-handed jerk who put Dean in a medically induced coma.

But if he goes back now, Castiel isn’t sure he’s going to bring up the courage to come back. So he takes a deep breath and knocks.

The "Come in!" has Dean’s voice, far as Castiel remembers it. That’s good. Dean is awake. That’s a good start.

Only then, nothing goes as planned. Because when Dean sees him, his whole face lights up. Castiel almost wants to turn and run. Almost.

"I remember you!" Dean beams. He looks oddly elated by the fact.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel greets him with a small smile, remembering too late that he should call him  _ Mr. Winchester _ even when he’s been calling him Dean in his head for the past few days.

Dean's smile widens so much he practically radiates. "I remember you, and you don't sound upset! That's the best thing that's happened all day!" There is so much relief in his voice that Castiel doesn't question it when Dean stretches out a hand towards him. He just comes closer and sits down in the visitor's chair next to Dean's bed.

"They said not to worry and that it's temporary. That I'll be back to being my old self in no time." The easy smile suddenly gets a lot more forced as Dean's forehead creases in a frown. Still, he keeps the smile on, though all Castiel feels from it now is apprehension. "Until then, I might not be - they said it would be confusing. That it has no pattern, what I'll recognize. They said to trust my gut feeling and, y'know, ask. Because I could get a feeling of familiarity without knowing why and that sometimes that's kind of scary and that it will take time to adjust, and I know it isn't much, because I can't even give you any details, but I'm glad that  _ this  _ isn’t confusing. I remember you. I remember your voice, your face. I remember you. In fact, you’re kind of the first thing I remember at all? So, that’s kind of really cool, don’t you think?" Dean blurts out, the apprehension now closer to dread. Like he is genuinely scared of Castiel’s reaction to this.

Only Castiel has no idea how to react because he has no idea what is going on. "Things seem to be confusing, indeed. I'm sorry, but I can't follow you," Castiel says carefully.

Dean’s eyes widen, "They didn't tell you? I thought for sure they would have told you…” He swallows heavily. “Please don’t be upset about this. Please. I…", Dean stops himself and looks at Castiel pleadingly. "I have amnesia… I... I remember  _ you,  _ but I don't even remember your name."

Dean averts his eyes quickly like he doesn't want to see what Castiel does next. Not that Castiel does anything but stare at Dean with an open mouth.

“I know it’s stupid,” Dean whispers. “I’m stupid. Here, I am - a grown man - and I can’t even remember my boyfriend’s name…” There are tears in his eyes, though he doesn’t let them fall.

Maybe it’s that what makes Castiel rush forward, disregarding the voice at the back of his mind screeching at him to  _ tell him you’re not his boyfriend. _

But he can't. He can't when this is all his fault. This is all on him. And he can see that Dean is hardly holding it together. Apparently, the mythical boyfriend hasn't shown up, or Dean wouldn't still be confusing them.

So instead of doing what his brain tells him is right, he does what his heart tells him. He takes Dean’s hand in his own, gently squeezing it until Dean looks up at him with watery eyes.

Being Dean's boyfriend for a little while won’t hurt anybody. Not if all Castiel does is help Dean feel less alone. Help him not fall apart. Not if all he does is offer Dean the comfort that he obviously craves.

So he offers Dean a smile and holds his hand tight. "That's alright, Dean. You're not stupid, and you didn't do anything wrong. I'm Castiel. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Like someone hit a switch, Dean's face lights up. "It's  _ my _ pleasure. Castiel… Cas?" He tries out with a shy smile that Castiel is helpless not to return. 

In fact, the ease with which the nickname is given makes something stretch and flutter in Castiel's stomach that he is entirely unaccustomed to. He had been a serious child, and he is a serious businessman now. The only nickname he'd ever gotten was from his brother, and  _ Cassie  _ was never his favorite, the derision in it often too clear. But  _ Cas _ has a different ring than that.  _ Cas  _ sounds like the nickname of someone who is appreciated.

"You can call me Cas," Castiel answers with a smile and lets go of Dean's hand. He immediately misses the touch.

"I didn't before?" Dean asks, surprised. "Huh. Really thought I did. It kinda felt right, you know."

Castiel huffs quietly because _ , 'of course, you didn't call me that, you just met me _ .' It would be the truth. It also would be cruel. So instead, he says, "Most people don't bother to remember Castiel, they always get it wrong. Cassiel is the most common misinterpretation. The worst was Catstiel - I mean, do I look like a cat to you?" He tries hard to shift the focus so that he can answer without actually answering. He doesn't like lying. He's not good at it, either. But here he is, doing just that.

Dean breaks out in a smile. "Should I scratch your belly to test out that theory?" he says playfully, but then he frowns. He rubs his nose like he's holding in a sneeze. "Am I allergic?" he asks. "It seems like - I mean, I have no pictures in my head or anything, but… it feels like I'm allergic."

Castiel obviously doesn't have an answer to that. "I don't have a cat," is all he can come up with.

“I never told you either way, huh? Well, if you don’t have a cat, it probably never came up?” Dean hedges. “I mean, how much did I tell you yet? How long have we been together?”

And that’s also questions that Castiel has no answer to.

"I mean, I think it'd be just like me not to tell you all the important parts. I've figured out that much already. But I remembered you, you know? I didn't remember my brother, but I absolutely knew your face. That counts for something, right?"

There is so much anxiety in the sentence that Castiel can't help it, he puts on his most soothing smile again. "It's okay. I'm not exactly an open book, either."

“So tell me about you now, Cas-ti-el, I promise I won’t forget this time.”

Castiel shakes his head at the bad joke, but he’s also incredibly touched at the careful way Dean pronounced his name, making sure that he got it right. “Very funny.”

“I know I am,” Dean smirks triumphantly.

That makes Castiel laugh for real. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

Dean gives up his haughty posture and goes back to the kind of grin that makes his whole face light up. “You know what? I think we’re good together, Cas. Whether we share all of our deep dark secrets or not.”

Because you don’t get that kind of easy banter if you’re not good together. Or in Castiel’s case, you don’t get that kind of easy banter at all. Because his social skills are - well,  _ an acquired taste _ as Gabriel would say.

“Hey.” Dean has obviously noticed Cas’ smile fall. He bites his lip. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Castiel shakes his head, “no, you didn’t. It’s just -,”  _ that I'm lying to you, and I'm getting to the point where I want to lie to myself as well. Where I want to believe what you believe. That we are actually a couple. Because it's easy to talk to you, and it makes me feel good, and I want to keep it _ , “That I’m unaccustomed to levity, it seems. It has been a few tumultuous days.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “And me not remembering anything can’t make things any better for you. I’m really sorry about that.”

“Stop apologizing, Dean. Please.” It’s not like Castiel’s guilt isn’t flaring high enough without that on top of it.

"I'm sorry." Dean bites his lip again, expression crushed. He looks away from Castiel, staring at the wall or out of the window, Castiel can't even tell. "I'd understand if you don't... If you don't want to deal with all of this. I mean, I'm getting the feeling that we've actually not been together all that long and - I know how it goes. I mean, I probably wasn't in your league to begin with, what with your fancy suit and all. So, we had some fun together for a while, and I'm pretty sure it was good for both of us. But if this was never planned to be long-term, then… Don't go wasting your time being here in the hospital with me. Plenty other fish in the sea."

His voice doesn't break, but Castiel doesn't like the resignation in it at all. It's like this is a speech Dean has given before. Setting someone else free even while he knew it was going to break his heart.

"Alright," Castiel says determinedly. "I'll tell you something about myself. I'm not a fan of the gay 'scene' with its propensity to worshipping youth and quick sex. I'm not judging it, either, but it is not who I am. I want my relationships to mean something. I don't want to be someone's toy, to be used and discarded when something new and shinier comes around. And I most certainly don't want to use anyone in the same way. So, no Dean, the person you're describing could never be me."

For a long moment, Dean stays silent. Then he quietly says, “Don’t think anyone would ever want to replace you with someone else, Cas. Or only someone who is very stupid and doesn’t deserve you in the first place.”

Castiel wants to laugh bitterly, Dean's assessment is so wrong. But at the same time, it's like a balm to his soul. He takes Dean's hand in his. "I promise you this right now, Dean. I'll be here for you in any capacity that I can or that you allow for as long as you want." Not that Castiel thinks that's going to be very long after Dean finally learns the truth.

But for now, his words have the impact Castiel wants. Dean squeezes his hand tightly. “So you’re staying?” he asks, hope glimmering in his eyes.

Castiel takes a deep breath. He has no idea what he’s doing, he’s never strayed out of the range of  _ sensible  _ quite this far before. But this, being here with Dean - this feels  _ right _ .

"I am not going anywhere," Castiel answers.

Just at that moment, there is a knock on the door. Cas actually flinches and immediately lets go of Dean's hand.  _ His real boyfriend  _ is his first thought, and he astounds himself with the amount of fear washing all over his body at the thought of losing Dean right now. It's definitely not in any proportion to the amount of time he's known Dean.

Dean frowns at him, but before he can say anything, a tall man with long hair walks in.

“Dean, you’re up! Why didn’t you answer when I knocked?”

The man comes closer with long possessive strides. Cas wants to vanish into the floor.

Dean looks at him for another long moment, then his face lights up like a lightbulb got turned on. “I didn’t tell him, did I?” he whispers.

Cas looks at him, confused.

“God, I’m such a coward,” Dean mutters to himself. “But hey, I almost died, he can’t be that upset right now, right? So this is the best of times.” It sounds like he’s giving himself a pep talk.

“Dean?” The tall man has come to a stop next to the bed, frowning at Cas taking up the spot in the visitor’s chair. “You do still remember who I am, right?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t be daft, Sammy. Course I do.”

“Yeah, well, nothing  _ course _ about it,” the man who’s obviously named Sammy bitches back. “The doctors aren’t even sure what’s going on in your melon.”

That makes Dean chuckle. “Well, who does.” Then he sits up straight in his bed as best as he can. “Sammy, I want to introduce you to Cas. I have no idea whether you two have met before.”

“Umm, we haven’t,” Sam answers and hesitantly stretches out a hand for Cas to shake. "I’m Sam, the younger brother. The younger, more handsome brother."

The joke falls flat in the tense atmosphere of the room, but Castiel breathes a sigh of relief.  _ His brother.  _ Of course. The hospital would have called Dean’s family. He takes his hand.

“I’m Castiel Novak. I’m, uhh…”

“My boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend. Deal with it, Sammy,” Dean jumps in, voice defensive.

“Uhh, okay?” Sam answers carefully.

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Totally okay. Because it’s okay to be gay.” He crosses his arms over his chest while both Cas and Sam blink at him.

"You remember nothing, but you can quote Pride slogans at me?" Sam shakes his head and obviously represses some laughter. "Dude, I know that it's okay to be gay. But you, Dean Winchester, are not gay. Not as far as I know, anyway." Dean has his mouth open to protest already, but Sam presses on, " _ You _ are bi. As far as I'm aware. And seeing how you came out to me  _ ages ago _ and that hasn't changed, I assume you feel comfortable with that identity."

Dean shuts his mouth with an audible click of teeth. “I’m bi?” he asks with a confused frown.

“Yeah, man. Having a boyfriend doesn’t make you gay. Let me see. There were Cassie and Lisa and that fling with Ash, a dude named Hendrickson, Benny - who you’re still friends with - and... Well, you get the point,” he shrugs. “Which begs the question - why the hell do I not know about you?” He turns back to Castiel, mistrust clear in every line of his body. 

And if there is any last chance to tell the truth, it's now.

Cas looks at Dean, who bites his lip nervously again but who also gives Cas an apologetic smile. Sam's instincts are right, but Dean already trusts him. Dean has set all his hope in him. And Cas doesn't want to shatter that hope. He'd told the truth when he said he wanted to stay. So he remains silent.

“It’s usually only one of two reasons that Dean doesn’t tell me about shit like this.” Sam counts on his fingers, “One, it’s a quick hook-up from the bar that he deems unimportant. Two, he knows that I’m gonna be talking him out of it because the person is bad for him.” Sam looks him up and down, “You don’t look like the hook-up in a bar type, though looks can deceive. No idea what you’d be doing here, though, if that was it. So that leaves the second option.”

Dean's face had contorted into a grimace at the casual hook-up part, but now there's righteous anger on it. "It ever occur to you that maybe I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to give Cas the third degree and scare him off? That maybe I had something good and wanted to keep it?"

Yes, Castiel is going to live this lie. There is no going back now. Because Sam is going to kill him if the truth comes out. That is if Dean doesn't kill him first.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam. I wish the circumstances were different," Cas says as calmly as he can manage.

It is enough to disrupt the glaring that had been going on between the brothers.

“Umm, okay,” Sam says, looking dumbfounded, and lets himself plop down on the foot-end of Dean’s bed, seeing how there’s no second visitor’s chair in close range. “I’ll accept that for now. So, how well do you know my brother? How long have you two been together?”

“Sam! We’ve just talked about interrogations!” Dean interrupts angrily.

“Yeah, well,  _ you’re  _ not gonna tell me any information right now, so I gotta ask him, right?”

It makes a certain amount of logical sense, obviously, even though, as with all questions today, Cas has no idea how to answer. Still, he answers before Dean can get even angrier. "Sam, to be honest, you're right, I haven't known Dean for all that long. But I already like him a lot. So, yes, I might not know as much about him as would be up to your standards, but I would really like to change that."

“See?” Dean gloats. “Do I know my boyfriend or what? Who I  _ remembered _ , unlike you, by the way.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Super.”

“Actually, yes. Even the nurse found it pretty damn impressive that I remembered someone this early on. Am I allergic to cats?”

Sam looks taken aback at the rapid change of topic. “Yes? Why?”

"Ha!" Dean exclaims triumphantly. "Knew it! Cas and I were talking about cats before, and I got the immediate urge to sneeze. But Cas didn't know whether I was allergic because we've never had occasion to talk about it."

Sam raises his eyebrows. “So, cats are not a topic you’ve talked about. What have you talked about?”

“Sam,” Dean groans. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I’ll tell you why as soon as I remember.”

“It might have been my fault,” Castiel says.  He doesn't care that he is digging his grave here, but he certainly doesn't want Dean to fight with his brother over something that is entirely his fault. Two pairs of eyes turn towards him. He clears his throat. "I know that it's okay to be gay, but I'm - not as out and proud as Dean is. I've never had an occasion. Only very few people know that I'm gay, and my family…" He grimaces. This part is the complete truth. There are probably three people in the world who know that he is gay. Well, make that five now with Dean and Sam.

But then, Cas really never had reason to come out. His friends are mostly business associates, their talk limited to work, and occasionally football. Which is hard enough for Castiel to take part in, seeing how he lacks any understanding of the game. And his family? He snorts at the thought of coming out to them, especially as a kid. They'd probably have sent him to conversion therapy.

Which is why Gabriel is the only family member who knows. Who had, of course, both understood him and had been entirely unimpressed.

_ "What’s the big deal, Cassie? So you’re gay, big woo hoo. Though it does feel a bit limiting. I’m pansexual myself. I love them all. Especially if they have a good supply of candy. So no judgment here. Except for that ugly trenchcoat you are wearing. That thing hurts my eyes." _

It gives him a physical stab when for the first time in a few hours, he remembers that he and Gabriel are not on speaking terms right now. He'd never expected that he would actually miss that bastard. Let alone this much.

“Let’s just say, my family and I are not close these days, and I’m not sure how understanding my work would be. So I keep my private life on the down and low.”

"Oh," Sam says. "Wow. Thank you for trusting me then, I guess? Sorry about being a dick. But my brother has, uhh, not always made the best choices."

Castiel has to fight another grimace, this time out of guilt. Sam is right not to trust him, after all. "It's good to see you stand by your brother." And that is most definitely not a lie. "I wish all family was this accepting."

“Yours isn’t?” Sam asks compassionately.

“I have one brother who is also queer. He knows. But the rest of them, no.” It’s all the elaboration Cas is going to give on this.

"Are we done now?" Dean asks, sounding annoyed again as he stares at his brother. “Or do you feel like making my boyfriend sad some more? Because I really don’t appreciate that.”

Castiel hadn’t even noticed it, too used to the feeling of having to be a fraud to avoid becoming a reject in his family, but now that Dean says it, he can feel how his eyes are burning, unshed tears behind them. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

“No, it’s not,” Dean shakes his head. He runs a hand up and down Castiel’s arm soothingly. “‘s fucked up enough being in here with a boyfriend who barely remembers more than your face. Sam’s got no right to drag everything else up, too.

“Dean’s right,” Sam agrees. “I apologize.” Then he turns back to Dean. “So, Cas and cats. Anything else coming up that you remember? Or do you want me to bring out the pictures?”

Dean chooses pictures, and so they spend the next hour looking through the gallery on Sam’s phone, Sam amusing them with stories both from his own life and Dean’s as he explains all of the situations in which the pictures were taken.

Cas isn't sure if they are not helping him more than Dean. The more he hears about Dean, the more he feels drawn to him. Cas knows he shouldn't. But he also can't help it.

Dean seems to be kind, funny, a bit chaotic at times, but generally a good guy. His brother obviously adores him, anyway, even though there are breaks and gaps in his tales, silences that tell Cas that he is leaving out the heavier topics.

They are looking at a picture of middle school Dean in a Batman costume, Sam telling them a story about that particular Halloween that is sure to have a funny punchline, when the nurse comes in and says that visiting hours are over and that they have to leave.

"Huh,” Sam looks at his watch like he can’t believe the nurse’s words. “Time flies when you’re telling stories, I guess."

"I guess it does," Dean says, and he obviously tries his best not to look crestfallen. "I mean, I have no real idea who this kid is," he tips a finger to the photo, "but he's kinda badass, and I like him."

Sam shakes his head and grins. “He’s an annoying older brother who always knows everything better.” He puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow?"

“I can’t really run,” Dean jokes.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Annoying," he repeats, but it is clear from the crinkles around his eyes that he's in no way actually upset. He turns to Cas. "It was nice to meet you. I guess we will run into each other again?"

Cas takes the offered hand and smiles, "I very much hope so." It isn’t even a lie. He’s come to like Sam Winchester in the past few hours.

"Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll leave you two alone for a brother-free good-bye. Don’t do anything that you wouldn’t do if you could remember it.” Sam winks and leaves the room with a wave.

"Haha," Dean grumbles, and Cas has to agree that it was, in fact, a pretty bad joke.

At the same time, his insides twist. He's gotten to know so much about Dean today, and if he's hoped it would deter him, it didn't. In fact, it's made butterflies appear in his stomach, and that's made everything so much worse.

Consequently, he knows nothing to say, and the silence falls over them like a blanket, only the noises of the machines Dean still is connected to a constant reminder of where they are.

It isn't until Dean speaks up again, that Cas notices that he's not the only one whose face shows his anguish. "I'll see you again tomorrow, too, right?" Dean asks, voice hushed like he's making himself say it even though he isn't sure he wants to know the answer.

It makes Cas’ heart melt even more. “Of course, Dean. If you want me to, I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” Dean asks, honest confusion in his eyes.

"Because you don't remember me," Cas reminds him. "You know nothing about me." And with good reason, though, he doesn't add that.

"Well, you could always tell me about yourself when you come back tomorrow?" Dean makes it a question like he isn't sure it's a sensible proposal or like he expects Cas to turn him down.

“Someone has hurt you very badly, Dean. I hope one day we’ll know each other well enough for you to tell me who,” Cas says softly because that is so very clear to him.

The reaction he gets from Dean is not a good one, though. He cramps his hands into his blanket and looks down at them.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas asks. “I mean, apart from the amnesia.” He tries to make it sound light-hearted, but he doesn’t think he manages.

“‘s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” Cas insists.

“‘s just,” Dean starts and stops again. “I can’t stop thinking about how much of a hassle I am. The amnesia is bad enough. You don’t need me to be broken in other ways on top of it.”

“You’re not broken,” Cas shakes his head and goes for Dean’s hand, trying to loosen his fingers from the fabric they’re clutching to wrap them in his own. “At least no more than we all are.”

“You seem to have it pretty well together.”

Cas huffs. "That's 'cause you can't see inside my head. I'm messed up plenty, don't worry." He chuckles. "That must have been the weirdest sentence to reassure someone that has ever been said."

That, finally, makes Dean crack a grin, too. “Point,” he snorts. Then he gets quiet and serious again. His eyes flit up to Cas’ for a moment. Suddenly, he looks nervous. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” Cas asks and squeezes Dean’s hand to make him look up again.

“I know I’m not fully there and everything, but,” Dean clears his throat and finally looks back up. His eyes hit Cas like a sea of green and light. “Would you kiss me?”

Cas stares at Dean, not comprehending for a moment.

"I mean, I assume that kissing is something we normally do?" Dean adds hastily. "If we don't or if you don't want to, it's not… I just…" He breaks off and takes a deep breath. "I think it would be nice to kiss you. And I tried to remember it, but I can't. So I thought…"

Cas probably still stares like a deer in the headlights, but to be honest, it’s been years since Cas has last kissed anyone. And that was Meg, and  that was when she used to be his best friend  trying to help him to get his family to stop complaining about how he never had a girlfriend , and he can't even remember what's it like to kiss someone and feel butterflies and…

“You know what, forget it. It was just… It wasn’t important. I wouldn’t want to kiss someone who’s only half himself, either.”

“Dean, no. That’s not it. I would love to kiss you. It’s just…”

Dean's eyes turn wide. "Have we not done that yet? Cas, that's… How are you here in the hospital entertaining my sorry ass, and we  _ haven’t even kissed yet _ ?”

Cas groans and hides his face behind his hands because he has no idea how to get himself out of this one. After all that he knows about Dean, Dean's not shy. Neither in person nor from the stories Sam told. And Dean is gorgeous, and Cas is so obviously smitten with him, there's no way he'd not have responded. If Dean was his boyfriend? Oh yeah, there would be kissing. And with the way his heart is beating a mile an hour just looking at Dean? Clothes would be shed, too. Never mind that Cas would probably blush and stammer his way through the whole encounter, seeing how his experience level is probably nowhere up to par with Dean’s. But then, he has a feeling that Dean would manage to put him at ease about that.

"Cas?" Dean asks, a little taken aback by the strong reaction probably. "Did we, umm, try it, and one of us didn't like it?"

Cas laughs a desperate laugh because, "God, no, Dean, that's not it." He still has no idea how to explain this, though. The fact that when he looks up, Dean's looking at him with this open expression, lips soft and plushy and slightly ajar, does not help. "There's really nothing on Earth that I'd like more than to kiss you right now," Cas says and wonders why his voice suddenly sounds so rough. "All of this is new for me, too, Dean. I don't know what is okay for you or me. I think we have to work that one out." It's the truth, even if it's another lie by omission.

Dean thinks about it for a moment, then he nods. "Alright. How about that: We introduced ourselves to each other when you came in, right? And then we spent a few hours talking about ourselves, well, mainly about me, but anyway, my little brother kinda crashed our first date, but otherwise, it was good, right? You had fun? Cause I really enjoyed it. And okay, I don't have much basis for comparison,  _ but _ I didn't even once feel any urge to flirt with the nurses, and I kind of don't want you to leave, so, definite success for a first date from my side."

Cas smiles when he gets the logic of Dean’s argument. “So you’re saying, we had a blind date, and now it’s time to decide whether we want to kiss goodnight and meet again?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods and repeats his earlier question. “Would you kiss me, Cas?”

And how can Cas say No to this argument? This is their first date - sort of - and Dean's made a valid point. And his lips still look soft and inviting, and there's a smile tugging at his lips and - Cas leans forward, his lips softly touching Dean's, if only for a moment.

It’s short and chaste, like the goodnight kiss that was promised, but Cas can still feel himself blush as the butterflies in his stomach turn into something that feels more like bumblebees.

Dean licks his lips, tracing where their skin had touched - Cas tracks the gesture in intimate detail - before he smiles. “You’re a gentleman on a first date, huh?”

“Not only on the first date, I hope.”

That deepens Dean’s smile. “Is that why I call you  _ sweetheart _ ? Cause you’re always sweet and gentle with me?”

It's said with a wink and a flirt, but Cas can't help it, he responds seriously. "You deserve that. You deserve someone being gentle with you." Of course, at the same time, shame spreads in Cas' chest, because here he is, talking about being a gentleman when he isn't telling Dean the truth. But at this point, he isn't even sure anymore, what would hurt Dean more, telling him or not telling him. So instead of thinking about it further, Cas quickly diverts and says, "so if you are okay with it, I'd love to visit tomorrow," before he can do anything else stupid like kiss Dean again or pet his hair or fall asleep next to him.

"I'd really like that," Dean answers, smile shy.

Cas answers with a smile of his own and squeezes Dean's hand once more, just to feel his touch before he gets up. "Until tomorrow, then."

Dean nods, smile cracking but will to stay positive etched into his face. "Til tomorrow,  _ sweetheart _ !"

Cas has to force himself to do nothing but wave and turn around to go.

Which is when Dean calls after him. "Wait!"

Cas turns back around and looks at Dean questioningly.

"I almost forgot. I need your number,” Dean explains. “Seems like my phone got crashed right along with my car. Sam got me a new phone. It’s a cheap thing, just a prepaid with basically no functions. But it’s better than nothing while I wait for them to figure out whether my SIM card still works. I can get an actual good phone when I’m out of here. And, you know, the thing can call and text at least. So I could keep in touch with you? If you gave me your number again? I promise not to call in the middle of the night."

This won't end well, Cas can feel it. But he's already in so deep, this barely makes a difference anymore. He wants a means to contact Dean. And Dean's giving him the perfect excuse. "Of course. Give me your new number, and I'll send you a text right now."

They exchange numbers quickly, and it feels good. Like the first good thing that has happened to him in a long time. He sorts Dean's number in his important private contacts. Which now has exactly three numbers, Dean's, Gabriel's and Meg's.

He stares at them for a long moment. One person who is currently 6 time zones away because she can’t be bothered to ever work a steady job and instead work-travels around the world  and hasn’t called him for months now , one person who doesn’t talk to him, and one person that he doesn’t seem to find the courage to tell the truth to. It should feel as pathetic as it sounds.

But instead, Cas feels elated. He runs his thumb over Dean’s number softly before looking up at Dean with a smile.

It’s gonna be okay. Cas has no idea how, but he’s going to make it okay somehow.

Right this moment, he even believes it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is back at home and he makes a decision. But then he gets a call and his plans change yet again.

His home feels too big. He's gotten used to his life being shrunk down to the size of a hospital room, and now he doesn't remember what he thought he needed all of these rooms for. They are empty anyway, no banter to fill them, not even a cat to meow at him for neglecting her. This is precisely why he decided against owning a pet - he's working too much and would neglect any furry companion. It would be different, he thinks, if he had someone to come home to. Someone human. Someone like Dean.

The thought makes him feel weird. Like everything that took place in the hospital was a mirage somehow. An image and a ghost, no more real than the monsters his brothers made up when they were children.

He lets his fingers glide along the wall when he walks, needing to feel them, to feel something tangible, to ground himself against the feeling encroaching on him.

He's felt like that before, in his childhood when books were his only companions during summer break, friends not a thing he knew how to achieve. He still feels like this every so often, on weekends mostly, when there is no work to call him in because everything is quiet, and it feels like he stops existing.

It's then that he notices that his feet have brought him to the library, the name a little pretentious, the existence of the room a little pretentious as well, maybe. But he'd wanted a library since he was a child and he'd had space, so he saw no reason not to create one.

There’s still some space on the shelves even now, his book collection not growing at the same pace anymore as it used to, now that work has basically taken over his life.

He feels a pang of sadness at the thought but intentionally lets it go, following his trail along the wall that is now a wall of books, touching the spines of dozens of them, feeling their difference. Leather is smooth, linen is textured, plastic covers should be smooth but really are sticky. He has books of every kind, every size, every genre. He can't help but love them all.

Maybe it is because they had always been his friends. Reliably there for him when humans had not. Still, he sees the spine of  _ Paradise Lost _ and wonders what Dean would say to it. He wouldn't remember it, of course. He'd have to reread it. 

The thought of rediscovering the book, of rediscovering every story he’s ever loved through Dean’s eyes makes warmth bloom inside him, the feeling more real than the rest of his house.

He's read so many books in secret in his life, so many topics and authors not approved by his family. He gave all of them space in his heart, somewhere very deep down and well hidden. The thought of sharing all of that with someone, of being allowed to love who and what he loves, of maybe even being loved back for it, is tempting beyond all belief.

He remembers the little adventures he went on with Gabriel fondly - building a raft to float on a nearby lake, riding their bikes into the abandoned quarry, sneaking away from their mom to go to the arcade - but his real adventures took place inside his mind. These books gave him all the freedom he wanted.

But books end. The friends you made while reading them fall silent on the shelf. And Castiel’s never had anyone to share those worlds with him. Gabriel scoffed at the mere mention of reading, and he didn’t dare tell anyone else about it, lest his parents find out. For a while, he tried making up his own sequels in his mind, but without other voices, it felt no less lonely than the rest of his life, so he gave it up again.

Maybe that is why it is easy to talk to Dean, Cas muses. He never had to try to win Dean over. Dean was already convinced that Cas was worth his while. That he had at some point in the past decided that Cas was a friend and more than that as well. That he would share his life and his bed, at least for a while. In Dean’s mind, they were already in the middle of their adventure. A modern story, not a classical novel, then, where the reader jumps  _ in medias res _ . It skips all the long pages of set-up and exposition, in which Cas invariably looks bland.

It's only when he sinks into his armchair that Cas notices how much of a strain being out of the hospital is on his body. His legs feel heavy as lead, and his muscles are shaking. It was just a few short days without his regular routine, but apparently, between the accident and being mostly confined to a bed, it has taken its toll. He can feel the strain in every part of his body. Well, almost every.

His lips still tingle when he remembers that such a very short time ago, there was the brush of a second set of lips against his. Warm and slightly chapped, but still soft. Gentle without being hesitant. He touches his own lips, not sure whether he wants to imitate the touch or chase the memory away. He had felt so loved at that moment, Dean so willing and trusting, and yet, Cas is betraying him. Is telling him lies and half-truths and omits all of the actual facts of their lives and meeting.

The book on his little reading desk mocks him.  _ Good Omens _ , it says when really none of this is a good omen in even the slightest. He picks it up, opens it where his bookmark is, reads half a page before noticing that he hasn't retained a single sentence. He shakes his head at himself. He doesn't even remember when he felt something beyond fondness for another human being. When someone got under his skin the way Dean did. Maybe the answer is never.

This doesn't happen. Not in real life. And it certainly doesn't happen to him.

Still, he gets up again - groaning a little, but there's no one here to hear - to go find something else. A romantic comedy where misunderstandings and mistaken identities create intrigue. Something, where a  _ sweetheart  _ said to a stranger, ends in a happy life.

He doesn’t even make it to the shelf, though, before his pocket vibrates. His first thought is Gabriel, but Gabriel doesn’t text, he’s too impatient for it. Gabriel calls. His second thought makes his heart beat harder. Dean.

Dean:  _ I’ve been thinking about nothing but kissing you again for the past hour. Is that weird? _

Despite himself, Cas blushes. He knew that Dean isn't shy, and Dean thinks they're in a relationship. Of course, Dean would assume it's normal for them to write about the physical part of their relationship.

Only Cas knows that it’s not the case. That they shouldn’t be writing about this or talk about it or actually do it, because Dean cannot give informed consent. Even though Cas is glad that Dean thinks their kiss worth repeating.

Cas:  _ Hello, Dean. _

He looks at the message, so short and non-committal in comparison to Dean’s. He doesn’t like that, either.

Cas:  _ I’ve been thinking about you, too. _

Dean:  _ Yeah? Miss me already? _

Cas chuckles at the blatant fishing but indulges him.

Cas:  _ In fact, I do. And I was wondering whether I should bring you a book tomorrow. _

Dean:  _ Do I like to read? _

Of course, Castiel comes up empty on this one. There weren’t any books in Sam’s pictures, but that’s not an indication what an adult Dean likes to do.

Cas:  _ You have no memory of it whatsoever? Not even an inkling of what genre you might like? _

It’ll sound like him trying to help Dean with his amnesia, he hopes, not like him not knowing.

Dean:  _ No idea. Though I’m gathering I’m not much for non-fiction unless it’s about cars. My brother says I’m good with cars. _

Cas:  _ No worries, I was not going to bring you House & Garden. _

Dean:  _ Surprise me, then. _

And that is something Cas can do.

Cas:  _ I’ll do my best to find something you’ll like. _

It makes a smile appear unbidden because there are so many possible choices, and he's excited to find out what Dean likes and whether it correlates with Cas' taste.

Dean:  _ Which books do you like best? _

Cas thinks about it for a moment. So many choices. But right now, he really only cares about one thing:

Cas:  _ I like happy endings. _

Now, if he only knew how to write his own.

Cas does, in fact, spend a lot of time deciding on the perfect book to bring Dean. More time than he should, probably, but his sleeping rhythm has never been that stable in the first place, and napping his way through a few days at the hospital has tilted it askew even more.  He takes a book into his hand and puts it away again. And again. Nothing seems to fit.

Nothing seems to be right. Lying is not right. Not telling Dean that he isn't the person he sees in him is wrong. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he doesn't like it. He wants to be genuine, wants this to be true and real. And yet he knows that it's anything when it is all based on a false belief. 

By the time he finally finds the perfect choice for the book he wants to give Dean, Cas has made a decision.

He will tell Dean the truth. Giving Dean this book tomorrow will his parting gift, but at least Dean knows.

Because Dean deserves better, he deserves to know that Cas lied, even when it was with good intentions. Dean deserves good things, and Cas lying isn't a good thing. Cas knows that. So the only right thing he can do is to give Dean this book and tell him everything. It is something he should have done right from the start, and he will pay the price for his lies.

With a heavy heart , he carefully puts the book on the small table in his hallway, right next to his keys, so that he doesn't forget it. That task well done, Cas finally decides to go sleep.

The next morning, he gets woken up by insistent ringing. He's never turned his alarm back on after the hospital, so it must be a call. Half asleep, he grabs the phone and looks at the screen.

Work.

He sighs deeply. He is still on vacation officially, but it’s not the first time that his boss Naomi has decided that something has come up that is more important than his free time.

"Castiel here," he picks up the call.

"When can you get on a plane and be here?" Naomi asks right away.

"Good morning to you too,'' Cas says tiredly, but adds in what he hopes is a friendly tone, "It’s your lucky day, I’m home early." He has no intention of telling her about the accident. It's nothing she needs to know.

"Oh, thank God! You  _ have  _ to come in as soon as possible. MacLeod & Partners is threatening to sue us, and I guess I don’t have to remind you that they’re  _ your  _ clients. You  _ have  _ to fix this. Preferably before they serve us. So you better come in  _ right now _ .”

Castiel can feel an immediate headache building behind his forehead. Still, this is his account. “Who delivered the message?”

“Crowley himself.” Naomi snorts disdainfully.

That makes Castiel huff a short mirthless laugh. "Crowley, alright. I agree that this has to be handled immediately, but I assure you that this is not the worst-case scenario." That would be Rowena being personally involved. The  _ grande dame _ of the enterprise, in opposition to her son, is all bite and no bark.

“You better be right,” Naomi snaps. “I expect you to be in ASAP.” She hangs up on him.

Castiel sighs deeply, but he's also up on his fest without pause. Where dreams might have pleasantly lingered otherwise, Naomi's call has put him back into business mode. He stops mid-motion as an image of green eyes and freckles invades his mind, but shakes himself out of it and retrieves a dark blue suit from his closet. No time to dream now.

He’s not been away for that long. And there were no open tasks on Crowley’s account when he left, the latest deal all but done and only needing final signatures. What the hell could Hannah have done in the past few days to piss the man off to the point where he wants to sue?

Fighting the sluggishness of his body, Castiel gets dressed quickly. He shortens his morning routine wherever he can - Kevin will bring him coffee, and breakfast is overrated anyway - grabs his phone, wallet and keys, and heads for the door.

His laptop bag sits next to the small table in the hallway where he's left it, but of course, there is also the book that he's painstakingly picked out for Dean yesterday night.

His heart sinks as he realizes that it is unlikely that Crowley is going to do him the favor of letting himself be appeased fast enough for Cas to manage to visit Dean at the hospital. 

It's probably better that way. He's getting attached to something that isn't real. The book in front of him is enough proof of that. Oh, it's not a valuable book. Not as such. It is old and dog-eared and well-loved. So well-loved in fact, that he has not ever loaned it to anyone because he wants it on hand if the mood for a re-read strikes suddenly. The fact that he wants to share it with Dean… Dean's never going to get the significance of it, of course, but Cas has never been that good at lying to himself, his logical brain telling him precisely what he's doing, whether he wants it to or not.

So, it’s probably better if this can’t happen. If he spends the day arguing whatever bullshit Crowley is going to throw at him. Dean never needs to know this.  And he can avoid the inevitable for another day. He wants to tell Cas the truth in person, but either way, he needs to tell Dean .

Cas takes out his phone with a determined motion.

_ Cas: I am sorry, work called. I can’t make it today. _

He hits  _ send  _ before he can overthink it. Before he'll want to add promises that he'll make it up to Dean. This is short and to the point. It's how Castiel communicates. Precise and efficient. Not needlessly emotional.

He pockets his phone again and grabs his bag.

He’s halfway out the door already when he turns back and carefully puts the book into his laptop bag before finally leaving for work.

As expected, Kevin greets him with coffee the minute Castiel walks into his office. He smiles at him thankfully.

"You are one of the best interns I ever had, I hope you know that."

“Thank you, Sir.”

Castiel restrains himself from telling Kevin for the hundredth time that he doesn’t need to call him  _ Sir _ . He's made it perfectly clear, and Kevin stoically refuses to call him  _ Castiel  _ anyway.

"Did you assemble the files I need?" Castiel asks instead.

Kevin nods. "Of course, Sir. They’re on your desk. In chronological order. The newest files are on top."

“Thank you, Kevin.” He dismisses his intern with a nod, thoughts running ahead to whatever he’s going to find in the files. 

Kevin closes the office door behind himself, and Castiel is glad for it. He has no interest in making up stories from his vacation, so the fewer people recognize that he's here - or that he ever was on vacation - the better.

The cleaning crew managed to knock down the picture of the angel Cassiel that Gabriel had given Castiel when he started his job there.

_ ‘Your namesake will bring you luck, Cassie!’ ‘He’s the angel of tears and presides over the death of kings, Gabriel. And he is not even the right angel.’ ‘Yeah, but no one makes actual portraits of the Angel of Thursday, little bro.’ _

Castiel rightens the picture carefully. He is not a big fan of Cassiel, but the fact that his brother thought about him enough to gift it to him is enough for him to give the painting value. More so than Gabriel ever intended, he's sure. He sighs. He hadn't needed the reminder that he is still not talking to Gabriel. For a moment, his heart longs to reach out. To be the bigger person and call Gabriel again, apologize if he has to. But then Cas remembers the words, and they still hurt.

_ ‘You’re broken, Cassie, you just don't want to see it.’ _

He shakes his head and turns to his desk. Files are waiting for him.

An hour later, Cas thinks he has figured out what happened. It was not Hannah’s fault. He should have known. Naomi had taken it upon herself to see through the final contract signing with MacLeod & Partners. And had changed details that Castiel and Crowley had painstakingly hammered out. Without notifying Crowley. Who now accuses them of false play and of trying to trick him.

He sighs. Fixing this will not be easy. Crowley is prickly to begin with, and convincing him that Castiel had no knowledge of this and that he had always negotiated in good faith is going to be a challenge. And that's not even taking into account that he's somehow going to have to convince Naomi that the deal as originally planned was going to be beneficial for Angel Inc. and that her changes to the contract need to be discarded.

Oh yeah, this is going to be a long day.

He only notices that lunchtime has come and gone when he comes back to his office from a screaming match with Naomi to find a sandwich neatly arranged next to the open contract documents. Not a single crumb will have fallen onto any of the important papers, Castiel already knows, but he checks anyway.

Then he shakes his head at himself. What is he doing? Trying to find an excuse to shout at Kevin because that’s a fight he knows he’s going to win by merit of his status at the company? No. He’s sworn himself he’ll never become that kind of boss. So instead of looking for further infractions, he sends Kevin a short thank you via the company’s internal messaging system and then takes his chair and the sandwich to the window. He’s earned ten minutes of break before he has to call Crowley again.

His phone chimes with an incoming message when he's halfway through his sandwich. He contemplates ignoring it. Staring out of the window and into nothing had been kind of pleasant. But then his sense of responsibility kicks in, and he puts his sandwich aside to look at the message. It's not one message. It's five messages sent over the whole morning.

_ Dean: Good morning, sunshine. Are you sure you should be working already? _

_ Dean: Okay, I should probably not be telling you what to do. Don’t think that’s the kind of relationship we have. *wink* _

_ Dean: Cas? You’re probably in meetings or something but please tell me if I upset you. _

_ Dean: Disregard that last message. I don’t know why I’m so needy. I swear I’m not that like that normally. Haha. (Yeah, I still have no idea about how I am normally. But a man can hope.) _

_ Dean: Please just tell me you’re okay. I’m starting to worry.  _

Castiel’s hands get clammy in second-hand anxiety while reading the increasing worry in Dean’s texts. And suddenly, everything that he’s thought this morning, about how he’s becoming attached to something not real, seems utterly selfish. Because Castiel is the one who has a choice. Dean doesn’t. For Dean, Cas is one of the only constants he has in his life right now. One of only two people he trusts. And for Cas to rip that away because he’s back in the ‘real world’ while Dean is not, is not at all okay . If only until they met again, he can at least give Dean his friendship until the truth destroys even that.

_ Cas: I have a book for you. _

It sounds insane, so he immediately starts a second message but doesn’t actually get around to writing it before a text message from Dean comes through.

_ Dean: Oh yeah? Is it one of your faves? Also, glad you’re alive. _

Cas ignores the guilt that wants to pool in his stomach and instead writes.

_ Cas: I'm sorry, I'm only having my lunch now. I don't know how they manage to break so much shit in such a short time, but they do. _

_ Cas: And yes, it’s a favorite. _

_ Dean: Knew you were a hotshot the moment I saw that suit. I kinda like it. Though I'm getting the feeling that work is keeping you from me a lot. So not sure I like that part. _

Cas immediately feels guilty about spending too much time at work before he remembers that no, work had never kept him from Dean before because he hadn't even known Dean the last time he was at work. He rubs a hand over his forehead.

_ Dean: Am I cute when I pout? _

He smiles for a moment, the reaction Dean wanted to get, he's sure, because it seems obvious that Dean wants to lighten the mood, maybe wants to make Cas forget about the spiraling messages before. Only, nothing feels light about the day to Cas.

_ Cas: I’m sorry. I got absorbed in work. I’ll do better. They’ll have to understand that you are a priority.  _

Not that Naomi knows Dean exists. Not that Cas is sure he wants her to know. Not that Cas thinks this will go any further as soon as Dean knows how much Cas has lied. He still doesn’t like that feeling, but it is also his own fault, so it is not his right to complain.

_ Dean: Hey, Cas? I was teasing. I’m bored out of my skull, that’s all. Not your fault. _

That one makes Cas laugh out loud, though it's not a happy sound. Because, of course, it's his fault. It's his fault in every single way it can be.

Just at that moment, the phone on his desk starts ringing. He groans. That’ll be Crowley.

_ Cas: I have to go. But I’ll keep my cell phone close. _

He does, too. He keeps it in his hand while letting Crowley berate him. He plays with it while trying to respond as calmly as he can. He sneaks a peek to see a  _ ‘best of luck’ _ from Dean when Crowley has a call on the other line.

He keeps the phone in his lap during the emergency meeting Naomi has scheduled. He only slides it in his pocket for the time it takes to update all of them on Crowley’s response. He barely manages to keep himself from keeping it in his hand.

It's weird. He had gotten absorbed in his work this morning, not thinking about the hospital or Dean or anything else for a few hours. But now, there's an itch and a restlessness, and the usual effortless concentration on the topic at hand doesn't come.

The fact that Naomi does not see how she has any fault in this is a factor, too, probably. Castiel has been yelled at by several people today already, all of which tell him that this whole mess is his fault when really, he's had the least part in this. It doesn't sit right with him.

Apparently, it's noticeable, too, because, at some point, Hannah leans over. "Are you alright?" She whispers.

He nods curtly. “Fine,” he whispers back.

She raises an eyebrow at him, not believing a word. But hopefully, she'll assume it's the whole MacLeod mess that's got him annoyed.

His phone vibrates, and this time, it's a long message, not one of the short humorous lines they've exchanged throughout the afternoon. Cas unlocks his phone.

_ Dean: Doc was here. She said if I have someone to supervise the first few days, she’ll let me out tomorrow. Sam’s put in a week of vacation, so I’m guessing he’ll be okay being my nurse. _

Surreptitiously, Cas presses reply.

_ Cas: That’s good news! I’m glad! _

_ Dean: Yeah, me too. He’s gotta leave on Sunday morning, though. That’ll be weird. I mean, I had to google my address to believe he wasn’t kidding me. Who the hell calls a street Lazarus??? _

_ Cas: City planners? _

_ Dean: Haha. Anyway, wanna surprise visit when I’m home? _

That makes Cas smile.

_ Cas: I would love to surprise you. _

It is the truth. He would love that. He would love that things would be as easy as they are now. That they would be like this forever. But then Cas remembers that he  doesn’t even know Dean’s full address.  And it all feels heavy again.  _ ‘It's a lie, and I need to tell him _ ,’ he reminds himself. And he can, when he visits Dean. T here can’t be that many streets called Lazarus and if he googles, with a bit of luck…

“Mister Novak!” Naomi’s thunderous voice rips him out of his daydream. “Have you heard  _ anything  _ we’ve discussed in the last ten minutes?”

Cas can’t say that he has. At all. But instead of hunching his shoulders and apologizing profusely like he usually would, he squares his shoulders. “I can’t say that I have. And that’s because none of what you have been saying is of any import.”

He can virtually see Naomi’s blood pressure rise, her face turning red as if she’s about to explode, so he hurries to go on.

"Fortunately, I have already talked to Crowley and know what to do." He grips his phone tight and launches into his own ten-minute explanation of what their next steps need to be.

The meeting still drags on for another eternity, of course, because Naomi is never happy with any of his plans. But Castiel knows what he's doing, and the rest of his team knows that as well. So together and with a lot of patience, they convince Naomi of Castiel's course of action.

He thanks Hannah profusely for having his back and then goes back to his office to call Crowley back with his next offer. They're not going to make the profit they expected on this deal, but it can't be helped.

Of course, Crowley knows it, too. And Crowley knows that they’ve fucked up and he has the better hand right now. And because he’s Crowley, and because he brings in a lot of business for them, he plays his cards mercilessly.

Which is why Castiel is back in Naomi's office at five to nine at night, having managed to make Crowley back off of suing them, but not having managed to make him sign the deal. He throws one longing look at the clock - visiting hours at the hospital ended at nine - and then tells Naomi the current status.

"Frankly, this isn't enough, Castiel," Naomi shakes her head when he’s finished.

He kind of knew that so Castiel braces himself for an overnighter that's he's halfway expected. But of course, Naomi manages to top even his worst expectations.

"You need to fly out to Atlanta as soon as possible. You need to meet up with Crowley. Personal interaction is always better than phone calls, and we can't lose him as a client. I'm sure your intern can book a flight for tomorrow morning," Naomi states with finality.

“Naomi,” Castiel starts hesitantly, “I was hoping…”

“No, Castiel, no. You have to fix this. And this is the best way.” She closes the file folder in front of her, clearly dismissing him.

And for a moment, one single frightening moment, all Castiel sees is red. He has told Dean he'd make him a priority, and he has a book that he has to bring h im. He wants to have at least one last nice evening with Dean before he has to say goodbye to him, and he doesn't want to postpone this entire conversation for another day or two because he made a wrong decision. He wants to believe Dean is worth it, everything of it, the pain, the happiness, and the broken heart,  and none of this is his fault in the first place. So. Screw Crowley. Screw work. Screw Naomi. He still has 4 days of vacation left.

"I can't,” Cas says calmly.

"Good, then tell your intern to book the fl… wait, what did you just say?" Naomi looks at him in disbelief.

"I can't fly out to Atlanta tomorrow," Cas repeats. "I can brief Hannah on the case, and I can be available for phone consultation if she needs it. But that’s it. I have full trust that this can be handled without me.”

“What - why?” Naomi asks, apparently shellshocked.

“Because I’m on vacation. And I will be for the remainder of the week, and possibly the beginning of next week as well. Since I spent today here.”

"You can't do that," Naomi says flabbergasted.

Cas smiles despite his heart beating fast. He never rebelled, or at least never this openly. "Watch me."

"I’ll hold you personally accountable if we lose Crowley," Naomi half growls, half shouts.

"If that happens, I will take full responsibility and draw the necessary consequences. But I doubt that it will. As I said, I have full trust in my course of action and in Hannah’s ability to execute it." He nods at Naomi, a smile on his face that isn’t even fake, and walks out of her office knowing he just won a battle he never dreamt that he would actually fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think will Cas do next? 
> 
> Next chapter on Monday again. Will Cas tell the truth in that one? You will see.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas prepares himself for visiting Dean and he makes a call.

Cas spends the rest of the evening and the better part of the next morning briefing Hannah the best way he can and making sure she has all the information she can possibly need as well as all the coffee Kevin can procure.

He keeps Dean updated through it all, though he doesn't tell him about the altercation with Naomi, not wanting Dean to worry even more than he is. Because Dean is already worrying that Cas might be endangering his job for him. Which, no. If Cas is jeopardizing his career, it is because he wants it. Because he wants a life outside of work, and he sees no reason why he shouldn't be allowed that.  And to be honest, he would love to have this life with Dean. Talking with Dean feels easy, something that wasn't ever easy for him with anyone. Ever. Until he met Dean.

In turn, Dean keeps him updated about the progress at the hospital. Apparently, there are a million forms to fill out, and Sam has to help Dean with most of them. Cas guesses that Dean finds it somewhat embarrassing, but he plays it down by turning it all into humorous anecdotes. Cas wishes he could deal with it in such a pleasant way when he feels discomfort. He usually just turns grumpy.

Instead of dwelling on that, Cas does his best to do research. He has no problem finding Lazarus Street on google maps, and a short search reveals that house number 401 is rented out to one Dean Winchester. That's the immediate part of his troubles solved, but Cas is pretty sure that it won't be enough. Now it is entirely possible, that since he and Dean are 'newly dating', Dean hasn't invited him back home yet. It's just as likely that he has, though. So Cas tries to familiarize himself with the surroundings. He finds the nearest supermarkets, gas station, and a few restaurants that have decent reviews, and memorizes them al l. It is just for this evening, Cas reminds himself because as soon as it is time to go home, Cas will tell Dean and this whole dream will be over. And Cas will be alone once more.

It is then that it hits him like a train. After this evening, he will have no one. Well, there could be probably one person in the world he could talk to if circumstances were like they used to be.

Without thinking too much about it, he takes his phone and stares at it, as if to will his brother into calling him. But of course, it doesn't work that way. He hesitates, reminding himself of all the things that were said and all the feelings that were hurt.

Cas looks at the clock, it’s midday, his brother could do anything right now. Cas shrugs. He has nothing more to lose right now. And Gabe won’t pick up anyway.

His brother's number is easy to find, the only contact that has a silly picture instead of being a colored dot. It’s from a costume party that Castiel had never wanted to go to in the first place. Gabriel had taken a selfie with his big fake mustache and set it as his profile picture on Cas’ phone. Surprisingly, even though the party was awful, it’s a good memory now.

Or maybe not quite so surprising. It seems to be how things often work out with Gabe's ideas. They are terrifying in the moment, but make fond memories once you have survived.

Well, here goes nothing. Castiel hits dial and waits for Gabriel’s message.

"Bribe me with candy if you actually want me to listen to this. Good luck," Gabriel's tinny voicemail voice says as it always does.

“I’m not broken,” Cas starts after the beep because he’s been thinking about this for  a while now .What he would say if either of them ever actually called  and has his speech prepared. "Just like you're not broken. At least not broken beyond repair. Just like I don't think that our relationship is beyond repair. Or at least, I hope so." His voice peters out on that thought, so he takes a deep breath before he continues.

"I know that you don't want to talk to me right now, and I also know that I need to accept that. But I've come to a realization, and if it's the last thing we hear from each other for a while, then I still want you to know this much: I apologize. Whole-heartedly. I was an asshole. I understand now that my way of living, my way of planning for every eventuality, is not only not the only valid way to go through life, it's also not always the desired one. Or even an attainable one. I know that now because…" 

He breaks off. His whole dilemma with Dean is not why he's calling his brother. This is about him and Gabe. "Anyway, I know you think I don't take you seriously, and I've never been shy when it came to criticizing your choices. I could never understand how you could live this freely without feeling the least bit of anxiety. I still don't really know how you do it. But I want to learn and that I think I've start-"

There's a beep, and the machine hangs up on him. For a moment, Cas stares at his phone, dumbfounded. A few seconds later, he notices how much his hands are shaking. He takes another deliberate deep breath. What he'd managed to say wasn't much. It wasn't good enough. It had sounded better in his head. He should have thought about what he wanted to say longer. He should have written it down. He shouldn't have called on a whim . He should have - his phone rings.

He stares at it, blinking his eyes twice before managing to make them focus. It’s Gabriel’s picture that stares back at him from the screen. He swipes to take the call.

“Gabriel?” he asks in disbelief.

"No, this is the Trickster, wanting to sell you some lollipops, Cassie. Of course it's me .”

“I -  you are calling back ?” Cas asks back.

"Actually, I'm baking cookies."

Cas huffs, this sounds like Gabriel. Baking cookies always had been an answer for Gabriel, when things weren’t how he wanted them to be. So Cas asks: “For work or just for yourself? ”

“Well,” Gabriel says laconically, “ I have to say for myself. Some days are like that. ”

“ I am sorry ," Cas says. "I suppose they are." He swallows because he's got his brother on the phone now, and he can't squander this opportunity on small talk. ""Gabe, I - I meant what I said. I apologize."

There is a beat of silence on the other end of the line. “Since when are you calling me Gabe anyway?”

“Did I do that?”

“Yep,” Gabriel confirms. “These are not the kind of cookies that make me imagine things.”

“Well.” But there’s no real explanation Cas can offer. “Didn’t you say the cookies are still baking?”

"They're in the oven, and we have another 12 minutes before I have to take them out. Doesn't mean I didn't eat some of the dough already." He says it like it's a challenge.

And it’s on Cas’ tongue, the reminder that raw cookie dough is unhealthy and can have bacteria and that you shouldn’t eat it. But he doesn’t let the words slip out. Instead, he asks, “Was it good?”

“Of course it was, I made it.” There is a pause before Gabe says, “You really have changed, haven’t you? Huh. What happened?”

“Who.”

“Huh?”

“It has to be  _ who  _ happened. Not what.”

Gabe whistles through his teeth. “Cassie, you little heartbreaker!”

It’s clearly meant to be light-hearted and teasing, but there is a heavy stone in Cas’ stomach. “I will be,” he answers quietly. “And I wish I knew a way not to break his heart.”

“Alright, you’ve got me hooked, little brother. Before we do anything else, I need to hear that story.”

And so it comes that he tells his brother everything right here and then . From the robocall and the accident right up to  the realization that he will be alone again after this evening and that he will miss Dean way more than he wants to admit to himself.

When he's done, silence shrouds them for a while. Finally, Gabe says. "So, all this happened because you - missed me?"

Cas huffs a burst of laughter because basically, that's true. Also, "Of course, I miss you."

“Enough to cause an accident?”

Cas huffs. “Apparently. It was not planned, believe me.”

“I should have called you back. And I should never have called you broken. I didn’t even mean it in the moment. It just came out.”

"It hurt me when you said it. But it only hurt as much as it did because I wasn't sure you were wrong. I thought you might be right," Cas hesitantly admits.

"Cassie, no! It's not true! You're the brightest of our bunch! That's what makes you so frustrating!"

“I’m not,” Cas shakes his head. “But I have more heart than you give me credit for. I know that now. Even though I’ve made a mess of that situation as well.” He sighs. “I seem to have a unique talent for that.”

“Nah,” Gabriel replies dryly. “Not  _ unique _ . We share some genes there.”

"The reason why you're  _ baking _ ?” Cas hazards.

“Yeah,” Gabe sighs.

“Balthazar?”

“Yeah.” It’s a deep sigh this time.

“Repairable?” Cas asks.

He can almost see Gabriel shrug. “I hope so. It usually is with us. Not that it makes the intermediate parts more fun.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to. Though it is good to have some certainty that things will work out.” He means it as a comfort of sorts, even while it makes him even gloomier about his own prospects.

“You want me to give you advice on how to get there? How to make it work out?” Gabriel asks. “Like, from the first time on? I’m assuming you’re kinda not into the dozen break-ups and make-ups that Baz and I are famous for.”

Cas hesitates. Gabriel is not always the most reliable source of information, and Cas has been burned before. Only, his brother doesn't seem to be in prankster mode right now. "Yes?" he answers cautiously.

“Honesty, Cassie. That’s the whole magic.”

And okay, Cas deserved that one. “I know,” he grumbles -

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m the last person not to see the entertainment value of a good deception that leads to an even better prank. But the whole  _ life  _ stuff? Like the deep shit? You gotta be honest about it and then pray for the best. It’s the only recipe I’ve found that works.”

“For you and Balthazar maybe,” Cas sighs. “Because you’ve had the good sense to be honest from the beginning. I’m not sure even prayer is going to help with my situation.”

"I wouldn't count on prayer as your only option, no. I mean, feel free to use it as an additional measure if it makes you feel better. But judging by my experience, that boy's gonna find out who you are eventually. And if you actually like him,  _ you  _ have to be the one telling him. He has to hear it from you. And before he confronts you about it.”

“ I know. I.. I wanted to tell him tonight. It's just…", Cas looks for words, but Gabriel finishes for him: "Not that easy to tell the truth?"

“Your experience, huh?” Cas locks onto the one thing that has nothing to do with his own dilemma.

Gabriel groans. “It’s a long story, Cassie.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Cas says stubbornly.

“Pretty sure you don’t. I appreciate the sentiment, though.”

“I  _ am  _ interested in your life,” Cas insists. “I care about you. And I’ve just gotten through telling you how much I’ve messed up only this week, so please don’t think I’ll be a judgemental ass like our brothers are.”

Gabriel snorts. “Cassie, you are aware that I’ve done much worse shit than lie for a few days to some hot piece of ass, right?”

And if he was just that - a hot piece of ass, if Dean was a player and Cas had met him in a bar, and they had decided to spend a few nights before parting ways, lying about his identity wouldn't be half as damnable or as desperate as it is.

“It’s so much worse than that. I’m falling in love with him,” he whispers . It’s like only now he realizes his feelings for Dean, how deep they already go, after only that short time . “I’ve never fallen in love like this. And I want to keep it. I want him to love me.” He presses his eyelids shut.

This time, Gabe's voice is full of pity. "Oh, Cassie."

“I told you, I’ve made a mess of things.”

“You have,” Gabe agrees. “I herewith vow to never give you the silent treatment again. No matter how much you piss me off. I don’t feel like accidentally prompting your early demise, be it through accidents or heartbreak.”

"Thanks. I guess," Cas answers dryly, though the reply does make him feel better. "So are you saying this is not a one-off? You'll take my calls again?"

“Maybe I’ll even call you once in a while. Stranger things have happened,” Gabe says. There’s beeping in the background. “Cookies are done. I gotta go. And you should go  and get ready to tell your loverboy everything .”

“Yes,” Cas sighs. “I guess that’s so.”

“It is,” Gabe agrees.

“And you’ll call Balthazar right after getting those cookies out of the oven ?”

Gabe blows a raspberry through the phone, but then he says, "I just might, Cassie, I just might."

Cas stands there for a few more moments, thinking about Gabe’s words and dwelling on the feeling of having someone he can count on. He is not alone in this. He won’t have to go through this without someone who will have his back. Cas knows now that he can do this.

_ Honesty _ .

And so Cas prepares himself to meet Dean and to survive this evening while also making the best out of it.

So he tries finding out more about the Winchesters. If Dean has social media, he needs to know. It would be weird not to know about his boyfriend's social media accounts, even though Castiel himself does not have any apart from an old Facebook account that he never uses. He has nothing to say to the family members on there. He logs into the account now, though, to better search for Dean, and discovers that he has half a dozen friend requests. He scrolls through them quickly - most of them seem from old school friends that, again, he has no interest in talking to. But there is one that he clicks on. Sam Winchester.

He swallows hard, but hits accept, just so that he gets access to Sam's friends' list.

There is no Dean Winchester among them, just as there is no Dean Winchester to be found on any social media site, it seems.

He breathes a sigh of relief.

_ Cas: Your brother added me on Facebook. _

There is no answer for a few minutes, so Cas busies himself looking through Sam’s profile. There are a lot of beautiful people and a lot of California sun in the pictures.

_ Dean: He had to tell me what that was. Surprised you have one of those tbh. You don’t seem the type. _

_ Cas: I never use it, either. It was pure luck that I saw his request. _

Or something like it, anyway.

_ Cas: Speaking of luck, do you still feel like hosting a surprise visitor today? And if so, are there any surprise groceries you need? _

_ Dean: Sam went out to get groceries. He bought enough for dinner for three. Okay? _

_ Cas: I’ll be there. _

_ Dean: :) _

Cas spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning first his kitchen and then himself. He decides three times which outfit is the one he wants to wear - three completely different choices, obviously - before finally settling on dark jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt. This is, after all, the first time his boyfriend is inviting him over to his place. So something casual but still nice seems to be in order.

Boyfriend. For a moment, Cas feels dizzy when the realization of  _ what the hell am I doing here _ comes over him again. But then there's the book for Dean on the table, and Cas  reminds himself that if this is really the last evening, he deserves to enjoy it as long as it lasts.

He wonders whether he should bring something else as well, a bottle of wine or some dessert, maybe. But he's not actually sure that Dean is allowed any alcohol, and bringing dessert seems a little presumptuous. So in the end, he goes with classical and a little cheesy and goes by the flower shop. Something light and cheery that brings color into the house. The lady at the shop wants to convince him that daisies or pansies are the perfect get-well-soon flowers, but Cas decides against them.

Of course, the moment he has bought them, he isn't sure about the flower anymore, either. Does Dean even like flowers? And wouldn't a boyfriend bring something more personal? He stands frozen in panic for a moment before making an executive decision. Everyone likes dessert, and the pictures from Dean's childhood that Sam had shown them had contained plenty of food pictures to give Cas an indication of what Dean enjoys.

And that’s how he ends up in front of Lazarus Street 401 with a book  in his trench coat pocket,  a sunflower in one hand, and a cherry pie in the other.

He has no idea how to ring the doorbell like this, but just when he’s trying to contort himself to reach the bell with his elbow, the door gets ripped open to reveal Sam. “He saw you get out of your car but didn’t want to seem too eager. Oh my God, you brought pie! Dean! He brought pie!”

And just like that, Cas has a free hand again because Sam has unceremoniously stolen the pie from him and is marching deeper into the house with it. Cas looks around once, but really there is nothing much to do but follow Sam.

“Yeah, I can see that it is a pie, Sam,” Dean is just saying when Cas enters the living room.

“But Dean! It’s cherry pie! It’s like your third favorite food in the world! Like, right behind apple pie and pecan pie! Well, actually, I have no idea how burgers rank on this scale, maybe it’s burgers then pecan but…”

Sam keeps talking, but Dean has looked up, and the moment his eyes find Cas', Sam's voice becomes background noise. Because Dean's eyes start shining when he lays eyes on Cas, and there is something soft around their edges. Cas has always thought the poems about drowning in eyes like deep forest pools were a lot of creative freedom and also much too cheesy, but now he can't rip his eyes away, let alone take part in any conversation that might be happening.

“Guys! Guys! Seriously? Hello-ho! I’m still here!” Sam steps right into their line of sight, effectively breaking the spell.

Cas feels the heat rising into his cheeks. "I, umm, brought you this," he says lamely and holds up the flower.

Dean’s cheeks also look a little redder than they had before, and he ducks his head shyly for a second. “You didn’t need to.”

“Well, it’s just good manners.”

“I like your good manners since they got us pie,” Sam grins. Then his eyes turn wide. “Oh my God, Cas, we’re going to get to see Dean discover pie! Holy hell, I’m not even sure I want to be there for that! He’s gonna make porn noises!”

That sparks both a groan and protest from Dean, whose face is flushing impossibly brighter.

“I think I will want to hear that,” Cas grins.

“Stop it!” Sam interrupts. “I don’t even want to know how close they are to what my brother sounds like in bed. That’s information no brother should know.”

"Sam!" Dean tries to stop him, but Sam just grimaces.

“Have I mentioned how often we shared motel rooms as teens? I know way too much already.”

“Dinner, Sam. You wanted to make dinner.”

“Well, it’s not like you two can’t help…” Then he looks from Dean and Cas and back. “On second thought, you know what, I’m good. You two - talk.” He claps Cas good-naturedly on the shoulder and leaves towards what Cas assumes is the kitchen. He takes the pie.

For a second, they both just stand there a little awkwardly. Then Cas moves towards Dean. “Here,” he holds out the flower,  the book still in his coat. Not now, he thinks to himself. Before he goes home tonight. One last time enjoying what they have or could have had if Cas just had been honest from the start.

"Thanks," Dean repeats, a half-smile on his face as he takes the flower from Cas. He holds the sunflower up to his nose, smelling it, before letting it sink. He looks unsure when he looks up again. "Umm, are hello-kisses a thing we do?"

“Do you want them to be?” Cas asks, mouth immediately dry.

“Kinda?” Dean smiles, still a little insecure. “And maybe - hello hugs?”

Instead of answering, Cas steps right into Dean’s space, taking the flower from him again to carefully deposit them on the shelf next to him. “That’s better.” He opens his arms, not even much, but Dean is moving instantly, hugging Cas close with a fervor that he didn’t expect. He hugs him back just as fiercely then, trying to transport through the strength of his embrace what he feels. That he would love to give Dean what he obviously wants in a partner. That he would love to be there for him. To keep him safe and protected. That he would love to love him.

Dean melts into the embrace, his body one long line of warmth against Cas', and Cas tries to remember when he was last hugged with such abandon, and he can't. Of course, it is a little hard to think with Dean in his arms like this, so instead of trying, he buries his face in the side of Dean's neck and enjoys holding him close.

Until he moves, that is, though when Cas wants to let go, let Dean free himself out of the hug, the pressure from Dean’s arms increases again. He shifts his weight, straightens until he’s upright, his eyes flitting from Cas’ eyes to his lips and back, so Cas tilts his head up and then there’s lips and more warmth, and really Cas hasn’t felt this pleasantly warm ever.

When it becomes clear that Cas isn't moving away, that he is leaning into the kiss - and how could he not? - finally, Dean lets go of his shirt, though all he does is move his hand to cup Cas' face, adjusting the angle of their kiss until they slot together perfectly. Until Dean can deepen the kiss.

It's everything Cas ever wanted, and at the same time, it isn't. Because Dean wants to kiss him, but he only does so because he's convinced himself that at some point he's wanted to kiss Cas. Because he thinks that they're dating. It makes the black hole of guilt show up in Cas' stomach again, so when Dean licks at his lips trying to get him to open his mouth, Cas instead tightens his grip on Dean's waist and pushes gently until the kiss breaks.

Dean’s eyes are still slightly glazed, his breathing faster than it had been, but he blinks heavily, focusing on Cas like he’s trying to understand what just happened.

Cas is kind of asking himself the same thing, because even though he is the one who broke their kiss, he wants to close the distance between them again, the cool air from the room so much less sweet than Dean’s warm lips.

But he resists, if barely, because he draws Dean back in if just to lay their foreheads together, to share warmth without getting tempted again. "We shouldn't. Not until your memories are back." He doesn't even recognize his own voice, it's so low and scratchy.

“I’m still me, Cas. I still want this. Still want you.” Dean lets his hand run over Cas’ chest, obviously trying to lure him back in by squeezing and rubbing until Cas catches his hand in his.

“Please, Dean,” Cas’ voice breaks on the word. Dean can’t know how wrong he is about  _ still  _ liking Cas, after all.

"But why, Cas? I'm right here."

And that's true, but it also isn't true at all, and if there's one thing Cas knows it's that as much as he wants to touch Dean, to have kissing progress to making out and then see where that leads - though he gets nervous just thinking about it, it's been so long since he's been with anyone - he doesn't want it like this. He doesn't want to take advantage of Dean. And of course, what that means is that he should just tell Dean  right here and now and not wait until this evening is it over. He will reveal the truth because  Dean deserves to know the truth, but  he is also sure that he  will throw him out  the moment he finishes speaking  and he’ll never see him again, and call him a coward, but he can’t. He just can’t.  Not now. He will, he promises himself again, and he knows he is on borrowed time here, but he is willing to take as much of that time as he can, even when he knows how much this all will hurt nonetheless because of it.

"Please just trust me on this, Dean. Please don't ask." It's pathetic, and he knows it, but he can't change course. Later, he tells himself again .

“Tell me one thing?” Dean asks, his voice hesitant like in the beginning again. “Is it because you don’t want to kiss me? Are you humoring me because you’re too much of a good guy to break up with the guy who lost his marbles?”

"God, Dean, no!" Cas shakes his head fervently. "Nothing like that, I swear." To emphasize his point, he draws Dean into a tight hug again.

It takes a moment, but then Dean melts back into it. "'kay. Guess there's so much shit I don't know, doesn't make a difference if there's one more. 'S long as you still like me."

“I like you, Dean. Believe me, I like you. A lot. _ ” So much more than I should _ . But he doesn’t add that.

“Good,” Dean says determinedly. 

Dean seems to want to make sure of it, too, or at the very least, he seems to not want to let go of Cas. Sam raises an eyebrow when they come into the kitchen, Dean holding the sunflower Cas gave him but also still holding Cas' hand. He doesn't comment, though, just takes the flower out of Dean's hand and puts it in a tall glass of water that thus serves as a vase.

The brothers banter and tease each other, but it doesn't pass Cas' notice that it is Sam who knows the drawer with the cutlery and the cupboard where the china is. He hands the items to Dean and Cas, who help set the table, though Dean always goes back to holding Cas' hand.

And maybe Cas has underestimated the apprehension Dean feels about being back 'home' because Dean walks around his own apartment as if on eggshells.

“You find it weird,” Cas observes out loud.

“Huh?”

“Being home but not remembering your home. It puts you off-balance.”

Dean opens his mouth as if to deny the accusation, but then he takes a deep breath and nods. “You always do that? Read me that well?”

Cas frowns because no one has ever accused him of being good with people. "My social skills are barely passable. I don't think I read people very well."

“Well, maybe not  _ people _ ,” Sam butts in. “But definitely Dean.” He grins and slaps Cas’ shoulder. “I didn’t even get him to admit this much before, so congrats on that.”

"Shut up, Sam," Dean grumbles, but he also rubs the back of his neck while his face flushes.

It’s a nervous gesture that even Cas has no trouble interpreting, so he squeezes Dean’s hand. “It makes sense that it would make you uncomfortable, not remembering a place you know you’ve been living in for a while.”

Dean grimaces, but he doesn't evade. "You know the feeling when there's a word on the tip of your tongue, but you still can't remember it? That's how it feels."

“Hey, you knew which closet the chips were in,” Sam smirks.

“Luck,” Dean shrugs.

"Muscle memory," Cas corrects. "Your conscious brain can't remember, but your muscle memory is still there. It leads you to the right shelves even if you don't remember why."

Sam whistles. “Someone read up on amnesia.”

It’s Cas’ turn to blush. “I may have googled a little. But there is only so much to glean from the internet.”

"Yeah," Sam sighs. "I did the same thing. There's a bazillion results, but they agree on no more than the basics."

Cas nods in agreement. “It’s annoying.”

Dean looks at him fondly. “Nerds. The both of you.”

Sam shrugs. “It’s not like you’re not a nerd, Dean. Even if you don’t remember it.”

“Nah, I saw those school pictures. You were a nerd, I was the cool dude.”

“Right,” Sam rolls the R long enough to make clear that he doesn’t believe a word. He stage-whispers at Cas, “Have you heard the term  _ performative masculinity _ before? Cause that was him until he met Charlie.”

"Charlie?" Cas' stomach does an uncomfortable little flip. "Your first boyfriend?" he asks with some hesitation.

Sam stops mid-motion. “You don’t know Charlie?” he asks suspiciously.

Cas immediately noticed that he's made a mistake, but he has no idea how to correct it. He wrecks his brain, but there was no Charlie in the stories about Dean's and Sam's childhood. "I'm sorry," he shakes his head and looks at Dean apologetically.

Dean shrugs. “She’s my best friend apparently. According to Sam she visited me in hospital and I had the audacity to sleep through it. What I also know i s that she ’s a nerd. And a geek.  Or at least that is what Sam told me so far. ”

“She  also  calls you a dork,” Sam  adds though his smile isn’t reaching his eyes. He still side-eyes Cas. 

“My brother calls me that sometimes,” Cas says unthinkingly.

“He does?” Sam looks shocked.

“Yes. Well, I don't know if he still does,” Cas says carefully. “We just started talking again.”

“Why?” Sam wants to know.

“It’s a long story,” Cas sighs.

“Tell me?” Dean asks. “If you want to, that is. And sorry if you told me before. Kinda didn’t retain it.” He grins, a boyish expression that melts Cas’ heart a little further. Not that Dean really needed to melt his heart more than he already has.

“My family is - complicated.”

He hasn’t even gotten further than that before Dean already has his arm around him, holding him. “Cause you’re queer?” he asks, compassion already in his voice.

And Cas hates that. He hates the empty sympathy and the pity of people who have no idea who he is or how he grew up and how complicated his relationship with his family is. How he hates them  _ and  _ loves them, and how they have a space in his heart even if they don't have one in his life anymore. Only Dean's voice is warm, and so are his eyes, and it feels like he's still listening, still open to any answer Cas might give. So he answers.

"Yes. That is the problem for my parents and for other siblings. They do not approve of my 'lifestyle,' and we don't fit each other's values. We write Christmas cards." He sighs. "They have never met any of my partners, and they probably never will. I would not put anyone through that. But Gabriel - that’s different.”

“He accepts you?” Sam has stopped moving around the kitchen and is listening as well.

“He accepts me being gay,” Cas smiles a sad little smile. “He  was  less than happy about the rest of my life choices. And he’s told me so very loudly and very clearly.”

Dean’s hand tightens around his waist. “ But you made up ?” he  asks .

It makes Cas smile,  and his feelings are confusing because Gabe was right : " We did. But.. . I fear the more you learn about me, the more you will agree with him. My life choices  _ are _ questionable." Otherwise, he wouldn't even be in Dean's kitchen right now. 

“Has he met me?” Dean asks.

“No,” Cas shakes his head. “As I said , we just started talking again .”

“Because he  was shutting you out after he told you your life choices were shitty?”

Cas grimaces. “The fight wasn’t quite as one-sided. I said some things to him as well.” He blushes.

“Yeah?” Dean grins. “You a mean fighter? Cause you seem a sweet little cinnamon roll to me.”

Cas rolls his eyes. "I am not a mean fighter, but I'm not any kind of pastry, either."

Sam chuckles and sets a large casserole in the middle of the table. “And thus it is concluded that you’re actually both dorks. And now come eat, dinner is served.”

Sam’s cooking skills are not actually bad, Cas concludes after his second helping of casserole. He says so out loud, too.

“Dean taught me,” Sam smiles. “Once he remembers where the pans are, I’m sure he’s gonna cook you lots of great stuff.”

“I cook?” Dean frowns.

“Yes, Dean, you cook,” Sam says a little exasperatedly. “And bake. And I’m not going through the whole toxic masculinity wake-up with you again, so please just accept it.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You told us all these sweet childhood stories, but really, I was an asshole, wasn’t I?”

"Sometimes," Sam admits. "Took you a while to figure out who you were and that you were allowed to express it, too."

“And then I forgot all about it,  _ great _ .” Dean’s frustration shows through in every syllable.

Sam’s voice is softer when he answers. “You’re still you, Dean. Minus the memories is not minus your personality. Though I gotta say, I’ve never seen you quite as openly happy as with Cas.”

The look he sends Cas is not one of happiness, though. Yes, Cas has managed to arouse Sam's suspicions, and even though their conversation during dinner was pleasant enough, the doubts aren't gone.

"Maybe I just never met someone so cool before," Dean grins.

“I’m not cool,” Cas immediately protests.

“Well, someone this  _ hot  _ then,” Dean wiggles his eyebrows, obviously pleased with his own cheesy line, while Sam groans.

“And that’s my cue, I’ll go do the dishes.”

“Please don’t, you already cooked. Let me do the dishes,” Cas interferes.

“You’re a guest,” Sam points out, while Dean says, “Good idea, I’ll help. Maybe I’ll remember the right cupboards this time.”

It's two against one, so Dean and Cas do the dishes, Cas actually washing them, Dean drying and putting them away. He lets out little whoops of triumph every time he finds the right shelf on the first try. It's adorable and does absolutely nothing to assuage the war in Cas' heart. Because to his surprise, even though Cas is not big on teamwork, working as a team with Dean is easy. Easier than with his brother, easier even than with Hannah at work, even though he's known her for years. It baffles him, yet he knows he could get used to this.  Not that it is an option, he reminds himself.

“What’s up?” Dean asks.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring into space, man.”

“Oh,” Cas shakes himself out of it and reaches the last pan over to Dean so that he can dry it. “I was just -,” but he wonders whether it is smart to actually state his musings out loud.

Though, of course, Dean is already curious. "Yeah? You were just?"

Cas sighs. “Contemplating how well we work together. And I know it’s small, doing the dishes, but…” He shrugs helplessly.

“I immediately started fighting with Sam.”

"What? When?" Cas answers, confused.

"When we tried cooking together. We clashed. Like, in minute one." There is a smile in Dean's voice, though, so the fight can't have been too bad. "So, you know, I appreciate the peaceful teamwork as much as you do."

That makes Cas smile, but he stays serious. “You are close, though, you and your brother.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Though I think we’re also - complicated?” He hazards.

“How come?” Cas asks.

“Ehh,” Dean shrugs. “Pretty sure we’re great at  _ survival  _ together, not sure we’re equally great at  _ living _ together.”

“You’ve only been back home for a day,” Cas points out.

"Yeah, but Sam's been in my apartment for a week, and his shit has taken over. And you know, I know I shouldn't be annoyed, because I barely remember the place and because he's being great, helping me out, but, man," he shakes his head, "I think I'm a neat-freak or something."

“Immediate grounds for divorce, obviously,” Cas states solemnly.

Dean blinks at him dumbly for a moment, then he shoves at Cas’ shoulder and starts laughing. “Shut up, dumbass.”

Cas grins back, pleased that he made Dean laugh. “Of course, Dean.”

Seeing Dean's smile fills Cas heart with warmth. He had forgotten that other people could make you feel this way. So content. So happy with the moment. All he's done in the past few years was striving. To be better, to be faster, to get more work done. He's forgotten. He's forgotten so much. Which - he isn't the one with amnesia. He remembers all of his actions. He also remembers that Dean until very recently was not a part of his life. It does not make him happy to think about it. The guilt stirs again louder than ever before. Dean's giving him so much, and he's so open and trusting, and Cas is using him because it makes him feel better, and  even when he has the intention to tell him tonight before he leaves, it ’s unfair and creepy and…

“Cas?” Dean frowns at him. “You’re doing it again.”

Cas slowly and carefully lays the last plate on the counter, giving himself a moment to think. He needs to come clean.  He had his nice evening, even had a kiss and a hug and hand-holding. He had what he wanted for one last time.  But all that comes out of his mouth is, “Huh?”

"You're staring into space. And, I mean, it's fine if you have thoughts that you don't want to share, but you're closing yourself off. A lot. It kinda worries me." Dean says it quietly, but there is worry shining through every syllable.

“Dean, I -,” Cas sighs and takes Dean’s hand, enjoying the exchange of warmth between them. “I like the way you see me. The way I can make you laugh and make you happy - at least a little - it makes me feel happy, too. And I fear the moment I say too much, all of that will be taken away from me.” As it should. Dean deserves so much more. “I think my brother is right. I’m broken.”

"You an ax murderer, Cas?"

“What?” Cas looks up perplexed.

“Do you drown small animals?”

“What?”

“Stalk playgrounds?”

“What the…?”

“Any other sociopathic tendencies?”

“Not to my knowledge?”

“Well then. Guess you can’t be all that broken.” Dean shrugs like it's self-explanatory.

Cas laughs, but it sounds slightly hysterical in his own ears. "Those are not the only ways to be broken, Dean."

"Okay," Dean says. "I'll bite. What is the big ugly secret that makes you broken? Cause I can't see it."

"Dean…" It's the perfect opening, and at the same time, Cas' voice cracks because all he wants to do is start crying.

“Alright, come here.”

Cas finds himself enveloped in a bearhug as Dean wraps his arms around him tightly. He hides his face in Dean’s neck.

“You’re okay, Cas. You’re okay. And I  _ like  _ you, okay? I really genuinely like you.”

"I like you, too," Cas whispers, doesn't trust his voice to hold. He doesn't deserve Dean's kindness, and yet his whole body melts into Dean's embrace.

There's a cough from the kitchen door, and Dean's hold around him loosens as Dean looks up at the intrusion. Cas takes a few breaths to compose himself, but then he turns around to face Sam as well.

"Guess you’re done with the dishes, so you’ll be happy to hear that Charlie decided to make a visit,” Sam says with a carefully neutral face.

"Charlie. My best friend," Dean says like he's reciting facts from a history book.

“Yes,” Sam nods. “That Charlie. I texted her that you were back home. And that Cas was here. She immediately decided to come over.”

“Oh?” Cas tries not to let his sudden panic shine through. This can’t be good. Sam is already suspicious, and this Charlie knows Dean better than anyone and…

“Not looking forward to meeting Dean’s best friend?” Sam asks with raised eyebrows.

"No, no," Cas immediately denies the truth of that. "Just a little nervous. She is Dean's best friend, after all."

“Who I don’t remember,” Dean throws in as if they might have forgotten about that. “Think I have more reason to be nervous here. It’s not every day that you meet your best friend for the first time.” He squeezes Cas’ hand encouragingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Th next chapter is the last one. Plus an Epilogue that will go up along with it. Hope you will like it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I almost forgot to post this. Technically where I live it are still 10 minutes of Monday left.  
> Hope you enjoy this one.  
> It's the last chapter, next week there will be the Epilogue.

**CHAPTER 4**

Charlie is a redheaded whirlwind who takes the house by storm when she arrives 15 minutes later.

"Dean! Your boyfriend’s a snack!” She exclaims immediately and hits Dean lightly in the chest. “No fair keeping him from me!”

Dean chuckles. “Don’t you wanna say Hi to him instead of talking about him then?”

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah." She turns to Cas. "I'm Her Royal Highness, the Queen of Moondoor. Otherwise known as Charlie. And you are Cas?"

“I am,” he nods, stomach fluttering nervously and adds, “Your Majesty.”

Charlie grins brightly. “See! That’s how you make a good first impression! Now, favorite video game?”

Cas looks at her with wide eyes as he feverishly thinks about what games his brother made him play over the years. Then he catches the motive on Charlie’s t-shirt and inspiration strikes. “Legend of Zelda is good.”

Charlie looks down at her shirt, then grins back up at him. “Okay, I’m getting the feeling you’re sucking up a little, but the game is awesome, so I’ll let it pass.”

"Phew," Cas wipes his brow, and it's only partially for drama's sake.

“Okay, next question: Star Wars or Star Trek?”

“Charlie,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“What?” Charlie blinks innocently.

"It's a trick question, and you know it."

Charlie's face changes as she takes Dean in and raises an eyebrow. "You sure you got amnesia?"

“Yeah, pretty much,” Dean says dryly. “But even though I may not remember my own goddamn life, even the recently memory-less know that there’s no right answer to that.”

“The Picard era,” Cas says.

“What?” They both turn to him.

"My brother swears that Star Wars is the best ever, but I find the emphasis on intelligence and empathy over economic or political striving present in Next Generation soothing. So, that's my favorite."

“Hmm,” Charlie weighs that for a moment. “I think I’ll let that pass, too. Just cause it’s a thoughtful answer and you’ve obviously seen the show. Dean, I think he’s a nerd. Why on Earth did you hide a nerd from me? I like nerds.”

“So do I apparently,” Dean grins, “seeing how there are three of them around me.

"I am a geek!" Charlie protests, and Sam shakes his head: "Again, not a nerd."

“Okay, okay,” Dean  puts his hands up and gives in . “You’re all are  _ dorks _ . Better?”

It makes both Sam and Charlie grumble, but Cas can see that it’s fond. “This is an argument you’ve had before.” He doesn’t even want to say it out loud, it’s only an observation, but three faces turn towards him.

"Yes," Charlie says after a moment of silence. "We have, indeed." Then she smiles again. "So, what now?"

“Now we’re going to the living room so that Dean can sit down. He’s supposed to be resting still,” Sam says sternly.

“Nice try, Sammy,” Dean claps him on the shoulder as he walks by towards the living room. “But I’m still the older brother here.”

Dean's snarky attitude notwithstanding, now that Sam has mentioned it, Cas sees how tired Dean's movements are and how much relief crosses his face when he slumps down on the couch. Still, he pats the space next to him, and Cas willingly goes over and sits down next to Dean. Dean immediately wiggles around until he's cushioned into Cas' side.

"Aww, look at them. They are cute, Sam. Don’t you think they are cute?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nope. Not falling for it. Dean would kill me if I called him cute in front of company.”

“Damn right,” Dean mumbles from his spot on Cas’ shoulder.

Cas huffs a short burst of laughter that jostles Dean. He pets his side in apology.

"Okay, tell me, how did you two cuties meet?" Charlie asks.

A question that, of course, falls to Cas. "Uhh," he says, "it was an accident, really." Because it was. Though more literally than Charlie will assume. "Dean mistook me for someone he knew, and we started chatting." He shrugs a little bashfully. "Apparently, that was enough to start liking each other." At least, it's technically all true. If a little more recent than the others assume.

Sam looks at him thoughtfully again, and Cas averts his eyes in favor of dropping a kiss to Dean's hair.

“So, what was it about him that you immediately liked?” Charlie presses.

“Charlie,” Dean groans. “Stop interrogating Cas.”

She shrugs. "Dean, honey, you may not remember your low self-esteem, but I do. So I'll grab this opportunity thank you very much. Cas?"

Cas nods. He’s noticed that, after all. How insecure Dean gets. How that insecurity goes deeper than the present. “It’s fine, Dean. I can answer this. I know why I like you.”

"Yeah?" Dean asks, his voice somewhere between challenging and shy.

“Yes,” Cas nods determinedly. These feelings are true after all, even when everything else is a lie. "I’m not giving any guarantees that this is a complete list, though.” He takes a deep breath and puts enough distance between them that he can look Dean in the eye. Dean  holds the eye contact, too. "I like you because you are a good listener and make me feel seen and heard. I like you because you understand my humor even when no one else does. I like you because you are open about your feelings and not ashamed of showing them. I like you because your smile brings light into my life that I was missing before, even though I wouldn't have known to put it into those words," Cas says. Then he doesn't have to come up with anything else because Dean draws him in for a deep kiss that is definitely passing the realm of the socially acceptable.

"Okay, enough, guys. Stop that. I’m sorry I asked and promise not to ask anything else," Charlie groans.

Dean starts chuckling against Cas’ lips and a heartbeat later the kiss breaks. “Okay, we gotta remember this one.  I am sure this is the first thing ever that’s managed to shut her up.”

“Unfair!!” Charlie pouts, while Sam rubs a hand over his face as if they’re all too much for him.

"Well, maybe not quite so intrusive questions for a start?" Cas proposes a compromise. "Dean will have to update my movie knowledge, but if you like reading, maybe we could see how our tastes align there?"

“Oh, awesome!” Charlie lights up again. “So, tell me, what do you like?”

Cas sighs a relieved sigh and smiles as well as he starts telling her about all his favorites. Sam might be suspicious, but he thinks he’s passed Charlie’s test. She likes him. It makes him happy.

Charlie is an engaging listener and an exciting storyteller, so the next few hours pass fast. It turns out that they share a love of the classics - Charlie is probably the biggest Tolkien fan Cas has ever met, regaling them with tales about her online chase for a first edition copy of The Hobbit - while she's also well-read in modern literature. Cas and her end up exchanging email addresses so that she can send him a list of all the newer books "you  _ absolutely have to  _ read, Cas! There is no gay like recent gay!”

Dean mostly listens and smiles at them, never budging from his spot against Cas’ side. But Sam gets drawn into their discussion at some point, discussing the merits of online versus traditional publishing with Charlie for a good ten minutes before volunteering the information that Dean's favorite author is Kurt Vonnegut. Cas doesn’t think he’s smiled quite this hard any time in the last decade.

Time flies, unnoticed by all of them, until Charlie exclaims, "Woah, it's getting late!” She makes a face. “And I have to work tomorrow. Like, in the morning. Because meeting. Which is so unfair. Just cause the boss is a morning person, the rest of us has to do the zombie shuffle.”

"Early bird, night owl, permanently exhausted pigeon," Dean counts on his fingers, thoughtful expression on his face. "Pretty sure that's a thing."

Charlie snorts. “Pretty sure Jo’s taught you this one, not me.” She gets up and pats Dean on the shoulder. “Good luck figuring out what you are. Cause I’m not telling you.”

"Dean Winchester, happy to sleep at all hours since I have a blue-eyed angel to share my bed with," Dean smirks and wiggles his eyebrows, the gesture so obviously dramatic in its lewdness that it's comical instead of sleazy.

“Yeah,  _ sleep _ , Dean," Sam interrupts. "That's what you should do. Because you're still resting, and the doctors haven't approved any extra-curricular activities."

He looks much more worried at the prospect than the joking mood calls for. Cas frowns. Maybe Dean didn’t tell him everything the doctors had said. Or maybe, Sam wants to make sure Cas doesn’t take advantage of Dean, seeing how he still doesn’t trust him.

Not that Cas was planning on taking advantage of Dean. In fact, he’d been so caught up in just their innocent hand-holding and the few small kisses, this catches him by surprise . He feels his face get warm and then hot, a telltale sign that he’s furiously blushing.

It doesn’t go unnoticed, either, Charlie cackling in joy, Sam groaning and Dean looking at him with a curious expression that is hard to judge.

"I should go, too," Cas mumbles. Even though he's not got work to be at in the morning, as he realizes with a start.

"No!" Dean's reaction is both prompt and forceful, and as soon as he notices that, he blushes as well. "I mean, you don't have to stay, of course. But it's, umm," he fumbles with his phone to actually figure out the time, "past midnight already and you have a long drive and, umm, yeah. You could stay?" Dean says, hopefully.

“I didn’t even bring any overnight bag,” Cas weakly counters  while he has no idea how to bring up what he wanted to now. He hopes for an opening when they are alone. It's not like he hasn't had enough opportunities. It's time to do what he has to do, and this time there won't be any excuses. He doesn't believe that Dean will let him stay after that anyway. His heart aches already.

“Pretty sure we can find you a toothbrush and one of my shirts should fit you just fine,” Dean argues.

“Sam, make popcorn, this is funny,” Charlie grins.

“Thought you wanted to split, Red.”

“Huh,” Charlie frowns.

A minute later, the same expression crosses Dean’s face. “Hey! That’s my nickname for you, isn’t it?”

"You remembered it?" Charlie asks excitedly,  and Cas is almost glad about it. It's good that Dean remembers. Dean won't be alone. He’s got family.

“Nah, just kinda feels right. It is, though, isn’t it?”  Dean answers .

“Totally is,” Charlie confirms.

"Heh," Dean says with a self-satisfied grin. "Knew it. You know what else?"

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “Should I be scared?”

“Don’t know. Depends, I guess,” Dean shrugs and then opens his arms. “You’re a hugger, right?”

“YES!!” Charlie almost jumps into Dean’s arms in her excitement.

Dean closes his arms around her. “Yep, feels right. Like a little sibling who is actually little.”

“Hey!” She protests, but after poking Dean in the ribs once, she goes in for another hug. “I’m glad that you’re still you,” she mumbles.

“Glad to hear it. Both parts, actually,” Dean replies just as quietly before letting go of her.

"Come on, Charlie, I'll bring you to the door," Sam says, and the look on his face is determined. "You two lovebirds can clean up here in the meantime."

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles, “just skip the chores.”

But Sam's face is still determined, and even Charlie seems to notice it. She turns back to Cas. "It was nice meeting you, Cas."

“You, too,” he nods.

“You’re not a hugger, huh?” Charlie says with a slightly pitying smile.

“I could make an exception?” he hazards.

It makes her perk up. “I’ll take that offer.” She’s much more careful with him than she had been with Dean, leaning in gently. Still, she comes close enough that she can whisper in his ear. “Take good care of him, alright? With or without his memories, his heart breaks easily.”

“I will,” he promises her.

It's an empty promise, of course, the lie he's told when he first met Dean having spiraled too far for there to be a way back. They have built something  in just a few  days, and it’s raw and unfinished, but Cas can already see that it could have been beautiful. But it will never be. Because it is built on an illusion and Cas has to pull the rug out from under them,  and both  of their hearts will be worse for wear.

The guilt makes his stomach heavy,  and sadness washes over him, still  he manages to smile at Charlie anyway. “Thank you for being such a good friend to him. He’s lucky to have you.”

She grins. “I know.”

And then, they are alone.

“So, do you, uhh, have to go into the office tomorrow morning or something?” Dean asks.

"No," Cas shakes his head and starts stacking the bowls, which held their snacks, for lack of anything else to do with his hands. They'll just try to grab for Dean if he isn't careful.

“So we can sleep in?” Dean looks comically relieved at the prospect.

“You really aren’t an early riser, are you?” Cas teases  while he tries to give himself the courage to just finally tell Dean. He knows it is time.

“Nope, I’m not,” Dean shakes his head. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Cas shakes his head fondly. “That’s not how the human skeleton works, Dean.”

Dean grins. "Ah, what do you know? Have your memories removed, and suddenly you develop spidey-senses." Dean wiggles his fingers in what's supposed to be a spooky way though it only makes Cas laugh. It makes Dean's eyes turn soft: " Thank you, Cas. For this evening ."

Cas just nods, the words stuck in his throat. How can he break Dean's heart when he is everything?

"Anyway," Dean starts. "There's a guest room in principle, but it doesn't have a guest bed. Sam slept in my bed until I came home, and I guess the couch's not uncomfortable enough for him to break out the air mattress. Not that I'm super sure that it's still intact. So..."

Cas sighs. He likes this, he would love to stay, but.. and he can feel that  Sam is not happy about Cas staying. Which, Sam is right not to be pleased about it, of course. Cas should leave.

When Cas started this, he told himself he'd keep the lie up until other people were there for Dean. Until Dean didn't seem so sad and alone anymore. Tonight Cas got that answer. Dean is not sad and alone. He has people caring for him, and even if Dean can't remember them, it is still clear that Dean cares for them, too.

If Cas wants that same care and love in his life, he has to do things right. He can't start out on a lie.

He has to make changes. He's started already, standing up to Naomi and talking to Gabriel again. Cas knows, his priorities have changed. And it is time to set this right. He promised himself to tell Dean today, too. He owes Dean that much.

"Cas? You're spacing again."

"Oh."

"Just tell me what's wrong, Cas," Dean says softly. "We can work it out together. I'm pretty sure of that."

Cas wishes he could share Dean's optimism. He wants nothing more than that. His heart hurts when he looks at Dean. Careful, ever so careful, he lets his fingers brush Dean's. Immediately, Dean opens his hand, takes fingers in his, squeezes them. Warm. Steady. Everything that Cas wants. Everything that he's never found before.

_ You should tell him. Honesty, Cassie _ .

Cas remembers his brother’s words and takes courage in them.

And if this means that he won't have any of this anymore - no kisses, no small smiles, no touches of hands, then this is entirely his own fault, and he will leave Dean alone.

“Okay,” Cas finally says and gestures toward the kitchen chairs: “Just.. give me a minute?”

Dean looks surprised but doesn’t comment on it, he just nods and sits down.

"I won't go away, promise," he says half-joking, and Cas wishes it was true.

Cas goes to his trenchcoat and gets the book for Dean. If nothing else stays here, at least he has a Goodbye gift. If Dean still wants it after he learns the truth, that is.

With a heavy heart, he sits down next to Dean and takes a deep breath.

"I promised myself to tell you when I give you this book, Dean," Cas says as he lays "On the Road" on the table, and Dean raises his eyebrow.

“A gift?” Dean asks.

Cas nods. "I handpicked it for you. I think you will like it. And after everything is said and done, I hope you will know that everything I did came from the right intention. Not that it makes anything better. I am sorry, Dean. For everything"

This is it. He’s started this, he can’t go back now. Even if it ends him out on his ass  right here and now.

"I don't know what you are apologizing for, Cas... please... you are getting me worried here. Just. Is... is everything alright? Are you alright?" Dean says. Dean looks so worried, and Cas wishes it wasn't his fault.

“I’m - I’m not sure. No, probably I’m not. Dean, I’ve - I’ve done something bad.”

“Yeah?” Dean looks at him intensely.

Green eyes full of confusion, worry, and Cas can't look at them, they are so kind. He doesn't deserve any of this.

"Cas?" Dean's hand on his arm shakes him, and when he looks back up, he finds that he has to blink a few times to keep the water that's suddenly in his eyes from spilling over.

"I wanted to tell you. Please believe me. I wanted to tell you so many times. But you were -" Cas closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You were so wonderful. And so happy to have me at your side. And I - Dean, I never wanted to break your trust, only, there was no way not to and…"

“Cas,” Dean grabs his hand and squeezes it. “Breathe.”

Cas nods shakily and tries to take a few steadying breaths.

“Okay, good. Now. Tell me.”

Cas tries to extricate his hand from Dean's, but Dean holds on.

"I caused the accident," Cas whispers. "I hit your car. And the only reason you remembered me was because I was in your room when you woke up for the first time. I had come to apologize, but even then, you assumed I was your boyfriend, and then I couldn't…" He breaks off.

“Ah,” Dean nods. “That explains that.” He is entirely way too calm.

“What?” Cas shakes his head. “Dean, I…”

“... hit my car, yeah, got it.”

“Then why are you - why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“Cas, I got the insurance papers days ago.”

"Oh," Cas blinks. "Then, why am I here?"  Confusion runs over Cas whole body. It feels like whiplash.

Dean shrugs. "Because you wanted to come to visit me, and I wanted to see where this goes."

“Where this goes?” Cas asks flabbergasted.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “I mean, you had to know that you couldn’t keep this up forever.” He vaguely gestures towards the living room. “See: insurance papers.”

But for Cas, another piece of the puzzle drops. “Sam knows, too.”

“Course he does. And for the record, he was very much against you coming over. And even more against you  still being in my life. Told him you wouldn’t take advantage of me, but he didn’t quite believe it.”

“Of course I wouldn’t! Dean, I would never!” Cas is immediately horrified.

Dean nods, still eerily calm. “Well, leaves the question, what is in it for you, then? Why play this charade?” he demands.

Cas swallows hard. "Because it's not. A charade. I mean, yes, I don't know you any better than I've gotten to know you over the past week. I have no superior knowledge from before. But - none of this fake, Dean. We've only known each other for a short time, but I came to like you. A lot."

Dean nods but doesn’t answer, so they sit in silence for a long time. Dean hasn’t let go of Cas’ hand, though.

“You can yell at me,” Cas finally says when he can’t take the silence anymore. “I deserve it.”

“Maybe that’s so.” Dean clears his throat. “Funny thing about losing your memory, though, kinda makes the world so wobbly that you feel like making sense of it much more than like fighting.”

“I’m sorry.” Cas hangs his head, because this, too, is his fault.

“Sam told me that if I had my memories, I’d wanna kill you. Not even for hurting me, but for hurting my car. She’s called Baby, apparently.” Dean frowns. “Makes no sense to me whatsoever. But he insisted.”

Cas really doesn’t know what to answer to that. So instead, he says, “I’ll pay for the repairs, obviously. And for your medical bills.” He sighs. “Not that it really makes anything any better. I’m really deeply sorry, Dean.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “I kinda believed everything right up until this moment.”

“No, Dean, you gotta believe me. I  _ am _ sorry.”

“You’re sorry you met me?” Dean asks.

"Wait, what?" Cas asks back confused.

“Well, if you’re sorry you hit my car, you’re saying you’re sorry you met me.”

"No!" Cas exclaims while he feels the heat rising to his face. "No, that's not… the two things have nothing to do with each other!" He breaks off when he sees Dean's smirk.

“Anyone ever tell you that you ramble when you’re caught off guard?” Dean grins.

“Dean, I..,” Cas is left at a lack for words. “I don’t understand. How are you flirting right now? You are flirting, right?” he asks just to be sure.

“Yep,” Dean confirms with another grin: “ I definitely am .”

“Dean, you’re…” But words fail him again.

"Look, Cas," Dean says, and his face turns serious again. "I can't promise you that it'll stay this way. If Sammy's right, I kind of take any damage to my car personally, and yeah, Sam's told me the names, but I kinda can't even give you any info on my dating history or anything. I can't even tell you whether I'm not usually an asshole or something. So maybe we're both gonna come to regret this. But I like you. Apart from, y'know, the lying. But every one of the frikking doctors told me to trust my gut instinct until my memories come back. And, might be that's total bullshit, but apparently, my gut instinct thought that you're cool. And that, y'know, I have feelings for you? And I kinda… Even when I knew you were lying, I still had those feelings, y'know?" Dean grimaces. "Look at me, yapping away all sappily."

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“I have feelings for you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms. “I’m falling in love with you.”

"Yeah?" Dean asks though the smile is back. "Cool."

Cas laughs incredulously. “Seriously? That’s it? Cool? You’re not throwing me out?”

“Nah,” Dean shrugs exaggeratedly. “I have decided that I’m a good host. And no good host throws anyone out, especially not if they want them to stay the night. ”

“Dean ! " and now Cas is really laughing, a little hysterically, and probably mostly from relief. There might be a few tears mixed in as well.

“Come ‘ere.”

And then Dean pulls him close and into a kiss, that isn’t very good, because Cas is still hiccuping with teary laughter, and the kiss tastes like salt and wetness, but he wouldn’t exchange it for the world.

This night Cas can't sleep for hours. Dean is sleeping next to him, his arm on Cas's chest, Dean's warmth radiating. For some reason, this feels right even though Cas can't believe that he is still here. That Dean didn't kick him.out, no that Dean even still wants him in his life. It is surreal, and Cas can't quite wrap his head around it. He doesn't know how he deserves this after the lies, but here he is. Here he is feeling happy, content, and at home. Because Dean made a choice. Dean still sees the good in him because they just clicked, and no one can take that away from them.

Cas also knows that whatever happens next, he won't ever lie again. He owes honesty to Dean but also to himself.

For the first time in a long time, he wants more than to function, more than just work, more than just existing.

He wants to be happy, he wants to make Dean happy, he wants to change, to kiss and love and feel and not hide behind this wall he built. Because Gabe was right, he is broken, but he is also not beyond repair.

He can change, and he already has. Because green eyes looked into his eyes and saw something there that no one else saw, not even Cas himself. And now Cas knows that there is something worth exploring, that there is more to him and that he indeed can find happiness if he just lets it in.

Eventually, he falls asleep with a smile on his face and a heart full of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woha, did you see that twist coming? ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading this story. I also love comments. <3


	5. Epilogue

The next day they get up while Sam is in the shower, so Dean gets out the pan to make pancakes, whistling happily when he gets the eggs out of the fridge while Cas searches the cupboards for flour.

Cas marvels at how easy it feels. How normal.

When Sam comes in, fully dressed but still toweling his hair dry, Dean barely looks up from his pan. “He told me, we’re good, so you can stop hovering now.”

“And a good morning to you, too,” Sam answers somewhat perplexed.

“Like, you don’t gotta trust him, but hold your peace until my memories are back, alright? Also, please tell me we have maple syrup somewhere, cause we didn’t find it.”

“Pantry,” Sam answers, apparently still a little stunned.

“Great! Go, get it! And Cas, you start setting the table, because we’re almost done here.”

Neither of them argues, and that’s that.

Sam still takes Cas aside later to tell him he will kill him if he has any ulterior motives or takes advantage of Dean’s current condition. Cas listens and nods and doesn’t try to defend himself.

Sam seems to accept it, too. At least enough that a week later, he leaves to go back to his own life. He still calls in every other day to see how Dean is doing, but he leaves him to Cas' care.

The set pattern keeps.

Random things start popping back into Dean's brain. The name of his first D&D character. The name of his favorite movie. The name of his first-grade teacher. He starts recognizing his neighbors, then his friends.

The day when he remembers Baby is a difficult one. Dean insists on immediately visiting her at the garage, and even though the repairs have already started, Cas doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dean quite as despondent than when he lays eyes on her broken form.

Still, Dean swallows heavily, puts a hand on her roof, and whispers, “We’re gonna get you fixed up real good, don’t you worry,” but he doesn’t shout at Cas. Instead, he silently takes his hand on the way back to Cas’ small, fuel-efficient car.

That is the first night they make love. They had wanted to wait until all of Dean's memories are back, but he says, "I know everything important now," and that's enough. They take it slow, mapping out each other's bodies, interspersing their touches with plenty of kisses, and it is not how Cas had expected this particular day to go, but it is everything he ever wanted.

He's slept over at his own place for no more than a few nights in the past weeks anyway, usually, when he had to go in to work really early, he has a feeling that it will become even less now.

The week after, they meet up with Gabriel. It’s a disaster and a success at the same time, pretty much like all meetings with Gabriel are. He gives Dean a jar of cookies to take home and promises to bake a pie for him someday, and for a moment, Cas fears he’s losing Dean’s heart to his brother. But only for a moment.

Then, another two weeks later, the repairs on Baby are finally finished.

“I feel like we’re getting the final family member from the hospital,” Cas says over breakfast.

Dean nods and says around a full mouth, “You got that right.” Once he swallows, he adds. “And just in time for me to go back to work on Monday. Feels like things will finally be normal again.”

“Normal?” Cas asks with a slight frown.

“Well, new normal,” Dean amends. “And speaking of…” He puts a hand in his back pocket and slides an object over the table towards Cas.

Cas catches it. "Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx? A mixtape?" he frowns.

“Yep,” Dean nods. “You’re gonna keep it close to your heart - cause it’s good, man - but you’re also gonna keep it in Baby. I figure, if you have a stake in the car, you’re not gonna run us over again.”

Cas shakes his head, smile fond despite the teasing. “I have a stake in the owner, too. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean grins a lopsided grin. “Glad to hear it. So, you wanna get her home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story was first easy and then it was not. Cas was not the only who was struggling with his lies, I hope in the end it is still a story that shows that you can change and that honesty is the right way.


End file.
